


The Wind Beneath Your Wings

by KatePryde



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, Bella is a BAMF, Bella is a badass, Dwalin Is A Softie, Dwarven Ones | Soulmates, Dwarven Politics, Emotionally Constipated Thorin, F/M, Female Bilbo Baggins, Female Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Forehead Touching, Friendship, I can't kill kili or fili, I can't kill thorin, Lovers, Mutal Pining, Protective Thorin, Quest of Erebor, Soulmates, The Arkenstone is Bad News, Thorin Is an Idiot, alternate universe - everybody lives/nobody dies, female hobbit - Freeform, forehead kissing, giant fix it, hobbits are sexist, hobbits have magic, sort of fembilbo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:28:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 103,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28736496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatePryde/pseuds/KatePryde
Summary: Belladonna Baggins the Second is an Odd Hobbit, the Mad Baggins. She has always acted every inch of the Took her mother was, until her parents died that is. Left with her younger brother to care for, she has tried to make herself become every inch the Baggins she needs to be. She doesn't realize how badly that was going until a wizard shows up on her stoop. With nowhere else to go, Bella packs up both herself and Bilbo and joins the Company of one Thorin Oakenshield. The only problem is they think she's a male, and she's not sure how to tell them she isn't without meeting the business end of someone's axe. The lesson to be learned of all of this? Don't listen to Meddlesome Wizards.
Relationships: Kíli/Tauriel, OC/Thorin, belladonna baggins II/thorin oakenshield
Comments: 86
Kudos: 152





	1. Of Tookish Tempers

“I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times Otho Sackville-Baggins, keep your disgusting, dirty feet away from my family’s doorstep!” 

Belladonna Baggins the Second (who preferred to be called Bella, and who was not so affectionately known as the Odd Hobbit or the Mad Baggins by the majority of her stuffy relations) shook her broom in the face of her waspish cousin. She had planted herself in front of her door the second she saw her cousin and his horrible wife walking up her path. Bilbo had seen the visitors as well and had brought her the broom before hiding himself behind the door where he couldn’t be seen. It was currently grasped between both of her fists and she shook it again. Bungo would lament if he saw the current state of his eldest child. Her curls hung around her shoulders ( _You’re not properly pinned up my dear_ , he would say), her blue dress and apron were both stained ( _what will they think of us, you with your dirty apron?_ ), and her own feet had not been washed in several days ( _dirty toes, my dear, and you a Baggins? shameful_ ). She was also short a petticoat this morning and her skirt didn’t puff out enough. She hoped Lobelia didn’t notice. 

“Speaking of feet, Belladonna,” the hobbit lass stifled a groan, “Perhaps you should be paying more attention to your own toes rather than worrying about my husband. You ought to be ashamed of yourself with the state that you’re in. This just proves further that you are in no state to manage your own affairs, as young as you are. Bag End and Bilbo both need to go to a hobbit family that can manage them, and you can go where you please.” 

“My parents haven’t even been buried a year and you’re trying to take our home from us.” Bella exclaimed angrily, shaking her broom again, “Well, I won’t let you. Take your sorry hides away from my doorstep!” She apologized silently to both of her parents, who would have been shocked at the way she was acting. (well, her mother would have scolded her publicly then praised her privately. Her father would just puff up and give her an extra tart for dessert.)

“It’s not your doorstep any longer, cousin.” Otho said smugly. 

Bilbo (who had been laughing silently during the majority of the exchange) froze where he stood, a cold feeling creeping over his body. Bella’s face turned white and her arms dropped down to her side, the broom dangling in one of her fists. _No, no they couldn’t have..._

“What are you talking about, Otho?” she hissed. 

Lobelia pulled several sheets of parchment from the folds of her skirt and handed them to Otho with a triumphant sneer crossing her face. Otho had a similar look on his face as well as he handed the sheets to Bella, who snatched them with a shaking hand. She noted the seal of the Thain on the top of each sheet. 

“This is the new copy of the deed to Bag End, which the Thain has written and sealed in my name.”

“Where did you get this?” Bella demanded. 

“We’ve just come from Tuckborough through Bywater,” Lobelia crowed, “He signed it yesterday and gave us leave to bring it to you ourselves. Otho and I have been made Bilbo’s guardians until he’s of age, and until then we will own the deedship to Bag End in trust for him.” 

Bella stood in the doorway of her childhood home gaping down at the papers she had been given. Official documents all of them, signed and sealed by the Thain, granting Otho and Lobelia Sackville-Baggins the guardianship of one Bilbo Baggins (age fifteen) and the ownership of the smial Bag End to Otho ( _drat that law that keeps females from inheriting or owning property_ ) until such a time that Bilbo Baggins turns of age (age thirty-three) and demonstrates the ability to manage his own affairs successfully. Her eyes welled up with tears. She had been waiting months for an answer, and now she had been given one. 

“Seeing as how you’re now of age since your birthday last month,” Lobelia continued proudly, “You have no need of a guardian anymore, and since you will be in the way of our properly raising Bilbo we also have an eviction notice for you. You are now a squatter who has no right to live here and we will be expecting you to leave the property by the end of this month.” 

Bella’s head shot up and her hands began to shake. Bilbo gave a shout of protest and bounded out of his hiding place and around his sister. He planted his hands on his hips. 

“You can’t make her leave!” he shouted. 

Otho gestured to the documents. “I think you’ll find that we can.” 

Bilbo looked desperately at his sister. “Bella, tell them they’re wrong!” 

Tears streamed down her face. “I can’t.” 

“It’s all legal, boy,” Lobelia said loftly, “We will be taking care of Bag End until you’re of age. The Thain himself appointed us guardians. He said that someone needed to look after you since your sister clearly can’t. She’s a completely inappropriate guardian. Young, unmarried, and a girl to boot. The Mother knows you need some good influence in your life. After the way your parents raised you, you should be thanking us for the service we are doing. 

Bella’s tears stopped nearly as quickly as they started. She had been expecting something like this to happen ever since her father had named her guardian in his will. She had known that her more horrible relatives would have something to say about her raising a tween young and unmarried ( _and female to boot_ ) as she was. She had known that keeping Bag End in her own name was out of the question even though she was the eldest since women were not allowed to inherit property. She had been holding out hope that her grandfather (The Old Took) would make an exception for her, but she had at least expected someone else to be appointed guardian in her place, to look after both her and Bilbo. This, however, was something she had not thought would happen. Of all the hobbits to be appointed guardians for Bilbo, why did it have to be the accursed Sackville-Baggins?

And how dare they. To show up on her doorstep just when life was starting to improve, even just a little? The Fell Winter was over, things were starting to grow again, and even though her parent’s graves now sat just south of the garden (facing the sunrise, just like her mother would have wanted) life was becoming better for her and Bilbo. The hurt still cut through her like a knife, but with every day that passed it was a little easier to pry herself out of her bed in the morning and the hurt ached just a smidgen less than the day before. To demand that she vacate the only home she had ever known, to take her brother from her, and to insult the memories of her parents all in one fell swoop? _No, that would not do._

Belladonna Baggins the Second may now be a Baggins banished from her home, but it will never be said that she left without a fight. _Papa may have been a Baggins, but by Yavanna Mama was a Took._ Belladonna inherited a great many things from her mother. She inherited her mother’s love of gardening and cooking, she inherited her cool grey eyes and dark hair, but most importantly she inherited her Tookish Temper. It was this Temper that was about to be unleashed. 

Belladonna Baggins (formerly of Bag End) straightened her spine. Her brother couldn’t see it as it happened, but to the two boorish hobbits standing in front of her it looked as if she grew three inches in an instant. Biblo saw small expressions of fear cross the faces of his cousins, and glancing behind him, his eyes widened. Having been on the receiving end of the great Temper of Belladonna Baggins the Second during their younger years and knowing what to expect from the inevitable explosion he tracked a hasty path around his sister and into the doorway of Bag End. (It would not be appropriate to say that he ran away, instead he made a strategic retreat.) 

Bella took a threatening step forward (and though they will never admit it, Otho and Lobelia both took several steps back), placed her broom firmly on the ground, and started sweeping the ground around the front of her house. Otho and Lobelia both looked on fearfully. The fact that she wasn’t chasing them down the yard immediately terrified them for what she might do instead. She spoke, and the tone of her voice sent a chill through the hobbits in front of her. 

“You, and all the rest of them have already been told that you are no longer welcome here,” she started out in a whisper that grew steadily louder, “You may have documents that give you Bag End, but as I understand it I still can reside here for a week until the month is up. As long as I am here, you will not be. I am the Mistress of Bag End. I am the Odd Hobbit. I am the Mad Baggins. If you are still here by the time I am done sweeping, then I will show you just how Mad I can be and put you out with the scraps and use you to decorate Ambrosia’s sty. You wish to act like a pig, demanding and greedy, then I have no problem putting you in her pen! NOW GET OFF MY STOOP! **YOU AND YOUR SPOON STEALING HANDS HAVE NO PLACE IN MY SMIAL!** ”

The last bit was screamed at the backs of the Sackville-Baggins as their large (and disgusting) feet ran down the path that led to the door of Bag End. Bella made to chase them down the road, but Bilbo grabbed her by the arm. She turned around to face him and would have hit him with her broom if he hadn’t ducked. 

“Don’t,” he warned, “They’re not worth it.” 

Even though he was nearly twenty years younger than she was, Bilbo was going through a growth spurt that had started the previous year. Bella remembered that her father had to make him all new trousers because his old ones had barely covered his knees ( _shameful_ ). As a result of his newfound height, Bella now had to look up to see his face clearly. On the shorter side (blame her Took blood) her eyes were level with his shoulder. All her bravery and anger left her once she looked into his eyes and saw the same hopelessness she felt in her heart. Bilbo brushed a hand over her hair affectionately and pressed his forehead against hers. 

“Stay here.” he whispered. 

He disappeared into the house for a few moments before returning to the doorway with her father’s pipe in one hand and his small box of his best tobacco ( _what will be done now that he can’t grow it anymore?_ ) in the other. Bella smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. 

“What are we…” she started to say, but Bilbo cut her off abruptly. 

“Right now, we’re not going to think about it. We are the Baggins of Bag End. We will still be Baggins without it. But those are worries best kept till tomorrow, not for today. Lobelia and Otho will be back I wager, but they are gone for now. Let’s think about it later.” 

He crossed in front of her and made his way to the little bench in the front of their yard. Like everything else in and around the smial, Bungo Baggins had had the bench made for his beloved wife. Bella took a heaving breath before moving to join her younger brother on the bench. She eyed the box in his hands thoughtfully. 

“That pipeweed had better be for me,” she said, “While at this point there is little more I can do to damage our already tarnished reputations, I will not be caught allowing a tween to smoke in my yard. While it is still my yard to smoke in, that is. Father would roll over in his grave even more than he already has. I’ll not give him any more grey hairs in the afterlife.” 

“Oh, come on,” Bilbo said playfully, “What Papa doesn't know won’t hurt him.” 

Bella reached over and slapped his shoulder. “I may have turned a blind eye to some of your antics before, but I have to be the grown hobbit now. Now give me the pipeweed.” She held out her hand expectantly and with an exaggerated sigh he placed the box on top of her palm. She took the pipe from him as well, opened the box, scooped out a small amount of tobacco, and packed it into the pipe. Bilbo teased her all through the process, making as if to steal the pipe but she held it just out of his reach. He finally gave up just as she finished. 

“Fine, fine, be that way.” 

She searched the pockets in her skirt for a moment before giving up. Eyeing her brother, Bella held out her hand again and Bilbo rolled his eyes at her. He reached into his shirt pocket ( _not wearing a decent waistcoat, what will be thought of him being in public in only a shirt and trousers?_ ) and pulled out a packet of matches. Lighting one, he handed it gently to her. She took it and stuck it into the pipe, placing the other end in her mouth and pumping gently to light the tobacco. Once lit enough, she waved the match in the air until it went out and leaned back against the bench, blowing smoke rings into the air. 

“What I did was positively Tookish.” 

“Well, I think you were due for it.” 

“Aye, maybe. But I am the elder here, a grown hobbit, and I need to start acting like it. Someone has to watch over you.” 

“What did I tell you, Bell?” Bilbo asked, “We will worry about it tomorrow. Just enjoy today.” 

So engrossed in their conversation, the siblings did not notice the figure standing at their gate until he spoke. 

“Good morning.”


	2. Of Bagginslike Behaviors

_Many things could be said about the smial that was Bag End. First and foremost, it was a hobbit-hole. Comfort oozed from the very seams of the structure. Bungo Baggins had taken one look at Belladonna Took and fallen in love right that instant. Knowing he had to prove himself worthy of the Old Took’s favorite daughter, he had drawn the plans himself and paid the finest craftsmen in Hobbiton and the towns beyond to complete the construction of what was now the greatest of the Baggins family homes. He wove his magics through the structure, and when Belladonna married him and made Bag End her home as well, her magics joined with his._

_It had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny yellow brass knob in the exact middle. The door opened onto a tubeshaped hall like a tunnel: a very comfortable tunnel without smoke, with panelled walls, and floors tiled and carpeted, provided with polished chairs, and lots and lots of pegs for hats and coats the hobbit was fond of visitors. The tunnel wound on and on, going fairly but not quite straight into the side of the hill - The Hill, as all the people for many miles round called it and many little round doors opened out of it, first on one side and then on another. Bedrooms, bathrooms, cellars, pantries (lots of these), wardrobes, kitchens, dining rooms, all were on the same floor, and indeed on the same passage. The best rooms were all on the left hand side (going in), for these were the only ones to have windows, deep set round windows looking over the garden and meadows beyond, sloping down to the river._

_When he had Bag End built with all its great many rooms, Bungo had thought that he and Belladonna would have a family larger than any other hobbit clan had ever seen. He also thought that both he and his wife would live longer than even the Old Took himself. Neither of these dreams came true, however. The first years of their marriage proved childless and hopeless. Time passed, and both hobbits became quiet content with the idea that it would just be the two of them in their great smial. Lotho Baggins and his dreaded wife came sniffing by every couple of years with their pack nasty children trailing behind them, but Bungo always put them on the stoop where they belonged. In fact, he stopped speaking to Lotho and shut the door in his face the day that sorry excuse for a Baggins dared to call his lovely Belladonna a **Halfling**. Such disgusting language wasn’t fit for the ears of the Mistress of Bag End. (Bungo’s wife was half of nothing, thank you very much.) _

_Then, miracle upon miracles, they had a child. Belladonna Baggins the Second came into the world screaming when her parents were both nearly middle-aged (which in their opinion was the perfect time to have a child). She was the light of her Papa’s eye, as beautiful as her mother and nearly as Tookish. The parents may not have been able to fill the rooms of their home with children as they desired, but they had their miracle and they were content. Which is why it was such a surprise that Bilbo was born to them eighteen years later, when they were both more than a little middle-aged. Belladonna nearly died during her labor, and Bungo gave his son to Bella to take care of while he tended to his wife (he had never felt so blessed to have the Gift of healing). Even though she was only a tween, she was Bilbo’s second mother from the moment he was placed in her arms. When they were old enough, Bella and Bilbo both added their magics to the family home._

_Hobbits, you see, were not blessed with the hardiness of Man, nor with the longevity of the Elves, nor with the strength of the dwarves. Instead, to better aid their lives the Green Lady blessed them with magic. All hobbits can complete basic spellwork, brew potions and the like, but each individual hobbit was blessed with a particular gift that became known to them once they came of age. Bungo Baggins was one of the best healers this side of the Brandywine River. His Belladonna had the greenest thumb of any lass in the Shire. Bella (to her own private disgrace) never discovered her Gift. The hobbits of Hobbiton have never heard of anything so unnatural, to not know who you once you come of age. And because they do not understand it, of course they must talk about it. “She’s Mad,” they say, “Not to have a Gift and to already be thirty-three. It’s not right, not normal, not anything.” Bilbo (hopefully) will be blessed with his Gift on his thirty-third birthday, like most of the hobbits before him. If one were to ask his sister to hazard a guess, she would think that he’s going to be a healer like his father._

_Hobbits may be magical creatures, may be gifted creatures, but they are creatures of comfort. Creatures of a normal sort. Anything unnormal is unnatural, and anything unnatural is to be Avoided At All Costs. Which is why the Mad Baggins was Avoided At All Costs. It did no good to borrow trouble._

Although it appeared that all the Baggin’s folk at Bag End were borrowing was trouble, for all the hobbits up and down the road could clearly see one of the Big Folk standing at the gate of the great smial. Big Folk, of course, were also considered unnatural (how can anyone stand being that high up?) and to be Avoided At All Costs. (is he wearing a dressing gown, with no waistcoat or trousers? And in the middle of the day? disgraceful.) All the hobbits made their way back into their own homes, where they could spy from their windows in peace. To their great disappointment, however, just because there was a Big Folk at Bag End did not mean they could hear a word of what he was saying to the two strange hobbits that lived there. Even those hobbits who tried to cast a spell to help them eavesdrop found their magic would not work in that respect, and so they settled for simply staring. (After all, they all needed something to talk about over tea.) 

It was fine, however. The two hobbits actually involved in the conversation were the ones who could hear, and that was all that mattered. 

“I said, goodmorning.” The Big Folk man repeated. 

Bella and Bilbo both glanced at each other. 

_Big Folk never came around Hobbiton, the nearest town that housed them was Bree and that was a good two days walk (if you started early and ended late). They had only made the trip twice before their mother died. Belladonna may have been a Took (and an adventuring one at that) but she gave that up when she married Bungo, as was expected of her. She was, after all, the Mistress of Bag End. The hobbits in Hobbiton had enough fodder for talk without her adding to it. (Not that she cared a wit what anyone thought when she was alive, mind you. But she knew that Bungo did and wanted to spare him the gossip.) Once she became a homebody she planted her power in the lands around Bag End and no better fields in Hobbiton existed. Her magics were the reason Bungo’s tobacco plants and all the rest of his vegetables flourished the way they did. Of course, now that she was no longer there the magic was fading out of the ground and would soon be gone altogether. Bella was doing what she could, but she was not Gifted as her mother was._

The Man couched, and the two hobbits turned their faces toward him. He was an odd sort of Man in odd clothes, he had a funny looking floppy hat on his head, and he carried what looked to be a walking stick even though Bella and Bilbo both were certain he had absolutely no need for it. The Man leaned on the gate of Bag End, but he did not open it. He wagged his fingers at the Baggins siblings. 

“Goodmorning,” Bilbo said tentatively. 

He meant it. The sun was shining, and the grass was very green. (The two of them may have had a horrible morning, but they were Baggins at heart and saw no reason to continue to dwell on it when there was a pipe to be smoked and good company to be had in each other.) But the Big Folk Man looked at him from under long bushy eyebrows that stuck out further than the brim of his great shady hat. 

"What do you mean?" he said. "Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is morning to be good on?" 

Bella quirked an eyebrow at the man standing at her gate. His manner of speech (that is to say, the way he was trying to turn them all inside out and in a circle) was somewhat familiar, if curious. 

“Why does it have to be one or the others?” she asked, “Why can it not be all of them at once? And a very fine morning for a pipe of tobacco out of doors, into the bargain. If you have a pipe about you, sit down and have a fill of mine! I’m not sure how long my stock of good weed will last since this last harvest will most likely be the last one we ever have.” Bilbo and Bella exchanged a sad look at this new realization. 

The Big Folk Man’s eyes flitted over to look her directly in the face, and his countenance dimmed somewhat. The sadness that could be clearly seen in his eyes made the Baggins siblings uncomfortable. 

“You look so much like your mother, my dear.” he said quietly. 

“You knew our mother?” 

“Aye, a great many adventures we had together.” 

Bella looked at the Man sharply at that statement. “Now look here, sir,” she said abruptly, “Our mother may have been a Took (and a wild one at that) but she’s not been adventuring in a good long while. She settled down like a proper gentlehobbit. No need to make trouble for the two of us throwing that word around for all of the Shire to hear. You won’t find any Tooks in this smial, sir.” 

The Man frowned at her words, and swiftly jerked open the gate and made his way up the path to stand directly in front of the bench. This startled the hobbits, but they did not move from their seat. Bella and Bilbo both had to crane their heads back to look at him. 

“To think that I have been ‘good-morninged’ and spoken to this way by the children of one Belladonna Took-” 

“Baggins!” Bella interjected.

“Your mother was a Took, I say, through-and-through!”

(Privately, Bella agreed with the odd looking man, however, it would not do to say so out loud.)

“To be good-morninged in such a manner, as if I was as much a nuisance as a trader trying to sell buttons at the door!” 

Something Tookish took over Bella at that (blame it on the events of the morning), and she placed her hand on her brother’s shoulder. Using it as a brace, she stood up on the seat of the bench. (If she was trying to appear intimidating, the effort was made but failed. She still didn’t even reach the shoulder of the Man in front of her.) She poked her finger as near to his face as she could get it. 

“Now see here, sir, you are in my yard, and we will good-morning you as we please. We don’t know you, sir, and I will thank you to leave now.”

The Man laughed (which was not the reaction she had been hoping for). 

“Not know me?” he exclaimed, “"Yes, yes, you do my dears. And I know you, Bella and Bilbo Baggins. And you do know my name, though you don't remember that I belong to it. I am Gandalf, and Gandalf means me!”

 _Gandalf_ , Bella thought despairingly, _Oh no. Not Gandalf. Not here. Not today._

_All hobbits knew of the Odd Wizard that was Gandalf. Every ten years or so, he would show up somewhere in the Shire making declarations about grand adventures. (The odd hobbit to join him either left and never returned, or returned and was never the same.) Hobbits knew to hide their children and tweens when Gandalf came to town. Tooks, however, were a different sort of hobbit. And so it happens that Belladonna Baggins the First had spent much of tweens traveling with the Wizard (until she met and married Bungo, that is)._

_Bella and Bilbo had grown up hearing the stories of their mother’s adventures with the wandering Wizard, had heard stories directly from the Wizard himself on the odd visit they had been present for, and had borne witness to his particularly splendid fireworks displays. Bella knew that Bilbo had always longed for the Wizard to come for him next (he of course would never voice such thoughts, but Bella knew her brother even more than she knew herself). Gandalf hadn’t come to the Shire since Bilbo’s fifth birthday, however, and the Baggins siblings could not be blamed for having little remembrance of him._

"Gandalf, Gandalf! Good gracious!” Bilbo started rambling off quickly, “Not the wandering wizard that gave Old Took a pair of magic diamond studs that fastened themselves and never came undone till ordered? Not the fellow who used to tell such wonderful tales at parties, about dragons and goblins and giants and the rescue of princesses and the unexpected luck of widows' sons? Not the man that used to make such particularly excellent fireworks! I remember those! Old Took used to have them on Midsummer's Eve. Splendid! They used to go up like great lilies and snapdragons and laburnums of fire and hang in the twilight all evening!" (Bilbo Baggins was not quite so well spoken as he liked to believe, also he was very fond of flowers.) "Goodness!" he went on. "Not the Gandalf who was responsible for so many young hobbit lads and lasses going off into the Blue for mad adventures. Anything from climbing trees to visiting Elves or sailing in ships, sailing to other shores!”

Bella tapped her brother’s leg with her foot, and when he looked up at her she shook her head slightly. Taking the hint, he stopped speaking. She turned her attention to Gandalf. 

“I thank you for your friendship with our mother, you meant a great deal to her. I don’t mean to be rude,” she said, “But what is your business with us? I mean, you used to upset things badly in these parts once upon a time. I beg your pardon, but I had no idea you were still in business." (And in all honesty she preferred that he took such business elsewhere. She had enough on her small plate as it was.)

“Well, my dear, I am looking for someone to share in an adventure that I am arranging, and it's very difficult to find anyone."

Bella gaped at him. _This will not do at all_ , she thought, _this is the last thing we need right now._

Bilbo had got a shiny little hopeful glint in his eye at the word adventure, and quite frankly the glint terrified his sister. It was the same glint she used to see in her mother’s eyes whenever she would look past the fields of Bag End to the lands that lay beyond them. No, I must put a stop to this at once. Bella gathered every ounce of stuffy Bagginsness that she had in her. 

“I should think so, not in these parts!” Bella exclaimed, “We are plain quiet folk and have no use for adventures. Nasty disturbing uncomfortable things! Make you late for dinner! I can’t think what anybody sees in them,” so saying, she sat back down abruptly and kicked her brother in the foot. When he made to kick her back, she pinched him until he looked her in the eye, and once he did she shook her head. Bella stared hard at Bilbo until he nodded back to her. 

Satisfied, Bella sat back against the bench and propped her feet up on a rock that she had placed in front of the bench exactly for this purpose. She reached for her pipe where she had set it down when they had first started speaking, and lit a fresh match to start smoking again. All the while she pretended to take no more notice of the old Man. She had decided that he was not quite his sort, and wanted him to go away. But Gandalf did not move. He stood leaning on his stick and gazing at the hobbits without saying anything, till even Bilbo got quite uncomfortable and even a little cross. 

"Good morning!" he said at last. "We don't want any adventures here, thank you! You might try over The Hill or across The Water." By this he meant that the conversation was at an end. Bella could detect the sad tone in her brother’s voice, and it broke her heart just a little bit. 

"What a lot of things you do use Good morning for!" said Gandalf. "Now you mean that you want to get rid of me, and that it won't be good till I move off. But where else should I be? Even though you wish to be rid of me, all the same I am pleased to find you remember something about me. You seem to remember my fireworks kindly, at any rate, land that is not without hope. Indeed for your old grandfather Took's sake, and for the sake of poor Belladonna, I will give you what you asked for." 

"I beg your pardon, sir,” Bella exclaimed, “But we haven't asked for anything!" 

"Yes, you have! My pardon. I give it you. In fact I will go so far as to send you on this adventure. Very amusing for me, very good for you and profitable too, very likely, if you ever get over it." 

"Sorry! We don't want any adventures, thank you. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever! Good morning!” Bella grabbed her brother by the hand and stood up, pulling him with her. The manners her mother and father taught her waged a war within her until she spoke again, “But please come to tea any time you like! Why not tomorrow? Come tomorrow! Goodbye!" With that the hobbit turned and scuttled inside her round green door, dragging her brother alongside her, and shut it as quickly as she dared once they were both across the stoop, not to seen rude. (Wizards after all are wizards.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you google "Belle, OUAT, enchanted forest and search the images of her in her blue dress, that is what I picture when I think of Bella. 
> 
> Also, some of the dialogue and text is taken directly from the book because it fits perfectly and I see no reason to omit it.


	3. Of Unexpected Parties

Once the door was safely shut behind them Bella exchanged a horrified look with her brother. 

“An adventure,” she exclaimed, “He might as well have asked us to shave our feet in public!” (Feet, you see, were incredibly important to hobbits. Good clean feet with well brushed toe-hair was desirable over all.) Bilbo colored at the thought. 

Gandalf in the meantime was still standing outside the door, and laughing long but quietly. After a while he stepped up, and with the spike of his staff scratched a queer sign on the hobbit's beautiful green frontdoor. Then he strode away with nary a glance behind him, chuckling quietly all the while. 

"And what on earth did I ask him to tea for?!" Bella continued, stomping her foot in the hallway like she did when she was younger and didn’t get her way, “I couldn’t possibly have been thinking clearly. Now he’s going to come back and cause even more of an uproar around the town, and like as not we will be blamed for it. As if we didn’t have enough to worry about.” 

She stood up on her tip-toes in front of the door and peered through the peep-hole. Sure enough, hobbits were slowly beginning to emerge from their smials, their eyes either focused on the door of Bag End (nosey little things) or down the road where Bella supposed Gandalf’s hat could still be seen bobbing up and down. She cursed under her breath and pulled herself away from the peep-hole, leaning heavily against the door with a sigh. The events of this morning suddenly crashed down on her, and Bella remembered what she was about to lose. Bilbo watched his sister closely as a range of emotions trotted across her face. Tears welled up in Bella’s eyes, and he pulled her in tight for a hug. 

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one comforting you,” she sniffed, “I get to leave, you’re the one who is going to be stuck with those awful Sackville-Baggins bunch.” 

Bella looked over her brother's shoulder (which was quite an accomplishment, considering the top of her head barely reached it) and stared down the hall of Bag End with an unreadable expression on her face. All the time, love, and magic that had went into the construction of her beloved home, all the effort her father had put in to prove he was worthy of her mother, and it was about to be owned by those horrible hobbits. 

“Worries for another day.” Bilbo said firmly, “You may be the elder, but I have no problem telling you what to do.” 

“No,” Bella said wetly, “You never have.”

“What did you think about what the Wizard said, Bell?”

“What do I think? I think it’s ridiculous and shameful for him to come here after another hobbit to whisk away. Our mother may have done it, but she was a Took! That’s normal Tookish behavior. He had no right throwing our Mother into trouble, and he’s got no rights to us.” 

Bilbo looked thoughtful. 

“What is it?” his sister asked. 

“I want to go on an adventure, Bell.” 

Bella froze in shock, her mouth gaping open. “Bilbo Baggins you take that back!” 

“I know you don’t want to admit it, Bell,” he pressed, placing his hands firmly on her shoulders and looking her in the eyes, “But it’s really not that bad of an idea when you think of the alternative. We’re about to lose our home! What else are we to do?”

She shook her head at him, “What happened to not thinking about that until later?”

“Well, I know I’ve been saying it to you all day, but in all honesty I can’t stop thinking about it. Bag End is lost, or as good as. I’m not stupid, Bell, I know when they say they’ll take care of it for me until I’m of age to take possesion that is them telling me that there will be nothing left but a shell of a smial and debts galore by the time I take our home back. The Thain has already signed the deed, and we don’t have the time to contest it before you’re to be evicted. Going on an adventure sounds positively Tookish, but I’d like to think that Mama and Papa would approve of us going, of us staying together, whatever the cost.” 

Bella’s face grew steadily redder as her brother spoke, until she could finally bear it no more. 

“I’ll not hear another word from you, Bilbo Baggins. We are not Tooks. We are Baggins. This is Bag End, our home. I promised Papa that I would take care of it, and that I would take care of you. I’ll fix this, one way or the other, and you will cease your worrying and nasty thoughts of an adventure. An adventure, Bilbo, what’s gotten into you? Of all the ridiculous notions...Papa told us to face our problems, not to run from them.” 

“But what would Mother say?” Bilbo pressed her further, and she exploded. 

“Mother is dead, she can’t say anything! I’m here now, and I’m saying no! No adventures for us, we are proper hobbits and proper hobbits we will remain no matter what some Wizard thinks. Mother isn’t here. It’s just me and you, and I am responsible for you. I will be damned if I let some Wizard swoop in here and cart you off. No sir. I have the final say, and I say no! Now stop this talk, it’s time for morning tea. Put the kettle on, I’m going to go change. I smell like pipeweed and aggravation.” 

So saying, she stomped down the hall to her room, leaving her brother to stare mournfully after her. 

_An **adventure**_ , she thought angrily, _of all the ridiculous notions…_

Slamming her door behind her she stomped over to her wardrobe and threw open the doors. “Green Mother above,” she muttered as she rummaged through the shelves, “What is that brother of mine thinking?” 

Unfortunately for Bella, it was laundry day in addition to being (so far) the worst day of her life. None of the clothes left in the wardrobe were day-clothes, and nothing would suit. She could either wear one of her finer dancing dresses or night clothes. She shoved the doors shut with a satisfying **BANG** , and (after sticking her head out the door to make sure her brother wasn’t anywhere close) darted across the hall to Bilbo’s room. Being the one to do the putting-away of their laundry (it had been Bilbo’s turn to do the washing last time) she knew which drawers in his dresser housed which items. Moving swiftly, she stole a pair of trousers (and if she had to roll them up more than a few inches, that was her business), an undershirt, a white shirt, and a deep brown waistcoat. She dressed as quickly as she could, tightening her chest-wrap while she was at it. 

Her brother, meanwhile, was doing as she asked on the other side of the house, pulling some cakes out of the pantry and setting the kettle up for tea. Without a word, his sister joined him, and he made no mention of her wearing his clothes or of their argument in the hall. Indeed, that was how they spent the rest of their day, in silence. They didn’t speak again until much later in the evening, when they were both about to get ready for bed. Bella had just reached into her wardrobe for a night dress when her stomach rumbled. She realized that since she and Biblo hadn’t spoken to each other all afternoon and evening, she had never asked him if he wanted to join her for an after-dinner snack (after all, hobbits eat seven meals a day, plus the in-betweens, for being a thin hobbit was a shameful thought. all hobbits must be in possession of a proper hobbit pooch). 

Bella could hear Bilbo rummaging through his things through both of their doors, and unable to bear the loneliness (or the quiet) any longer she walked across the hallway and knocked. Knowing that no sane hobbit would turn down the offer of food, once he opened the door she asked him if he wanted a late night snack like they did every other night. He recognized the attempt at an apology, and though he thought it to be a poor one he accepted it nonetheless. They both reached the kitchen in record time and soon had a late-night snack laid out in proper order. Bilbo finished eating first and (as was their habit each night) braided his sisters' hair up for bed. Bella was in possession of some wild dark curls that reached the small of her back (just like her mother) whereas Bilbo had inherited his fathers short dirty brown mop. Bungo used to fix the hair of both his girls before they retired for the night, and in his absence Bilbo had taken up the task.  
(Apologies don’t always have to be spoken, you see.)

The two siblings made a quiet but merry little gathering, sitting by the firelight with the remains of their pantry pillaging set out in front of them. Bilbo finished braiding his sister's locks and watched her closely as she looked around the kitchen. Her nose wrinkled at the thought of Lobelia and her little brat trekking around her mother’s kitchen and having run of the place. 

“Well, whatever happens,” he said thoughtfully, “At least Bag End will be used.” 

“Oh, it will be used all right, used till there’s nothing left of it!” Bella bit back, and the venom in her voice shocked even her. “Mama is rolling over in her grave. I can’t sit in this room with the thought of Lobelia’s fat rump-” Bilbo choked on his tea, “-sitting in the chairs and couches and having run of the place. I’d rather burn it to the ground.” 

She pushed back her chair suddenly. “I’m going to feed the pig, I can’t sit in this room a moment longer.” She stomped back down the hall, grabbing her hat and coat off of the hook next to the door. She shoved her hat on angrily. (It wouldn’t do for anyone to see her hair all done up for bed). She reached for the nob, and someone knocked. Bella took several steps back. 

“Bilbo,” she called to her brother, “Were you expecting a visitor?” 

(The Tookish cousins were known to have odd traveling hours at times, and often dropped by on a whim.)

“No, Bell. Why?” 

Hearing footsteps, Bella turned to see Bilbo coming after her. She pointed at the door and opened her mouth, but another knock stopped her from saying anything. Bilbo shrugged at her. The knock came again, more insistent this time. Bella opened the door slowly, and took several steps back when she saw what (or rather, who) was behind it.

It was a dwarf. 

A very _tall dwarf._

_A very tall, _intimidating_ dwarf. _

_Once the door was fully open and the dwarf could see the two of them in the dim light of the hall, he turned to face them and bowed low._

_“Dwalin, at your service.”_

_The Baggins hobbits stared at their uninvited guest. He had a short beard that seemed to crawl all the way around his head, the top of which was completely bald. Symbols could be seen inked across his head. _Good heavens, were those axes?!_ They thought. Sure enough, once he straightened he turned to the side and two axes could be seen strapped to his back. He wore traveling clothes, and a heavy coat, and had obviously come from a long way away given the dirt caked on his boots. He stepped in the doorway, walking around the siblings. _

_“Do we know each other?” Bilbo asked hesitantly, eyeing the axes with trepidation._

_The look the dwarf gave him communicated just how stupid he found the question. “No.”_

_Spotting the hooks and the umbrella stand, he removed his cloak and axes, hanging up the former and dropping the latter into the container. “Where’s the food?”_

_“Excuse me, sir,” Bella squeaked, “But what food?”_

_She was trying very hard not to look at the mud that the dwarf was tracking all over her father’s favorite carpet._

_“He said there would be supper waiting.” Sniffing slightly, the dwarf turned suddenly and made his way to the kitchen._

_Bella exchanged a glance with Bilbo, and felt a little bit of annoyance fester in her gut._

_“Who said?” Bilbo asked._

_Only one word was needed to answer. “Gandalf.”_

_“Bebother and confusticate those meddlesome Wizards.”_

_Hearing cabinets slam and what sounded to be plates and silverware clanging together, the Baggins siblings exchanged a panicked look before walking hastily to the kitchen. Dwalin was sitting in the chair Bilbo had vacated, and was tucking into what food was left of the snack they had been sharing (of course, since it was a hobbit snack, one must realize that there was both milk and ale set out, as well as two selections of meat, some vegetables, and several cakes and pies so that Bella and Bilbo could each chose their favorites. And what would you do, if an uninvited dwarf came and hung his things up in your hall without a word of explanation?)_

_Bella and Bilbo both froze in the doorway, for watching a dwarf eat is not an easy thing. He was devouring the food in front of him, mouth open while he chewed more-often-than-not, and bits of food already stuck in his beard (privately it was thought he might be saving it for later) They had not been at table long, in fact Dwalin had hardly reached the third cake, when there came another even louder ring at the bell. The siblings exchanged glances, and Bella gestured with her chin down the hall._

_"Excuse me!" said Bilbo (for he didn’t know what else to say or do) and off he went to the door._

_Bella sat and watched as Dwalin made a mess of himself. He took several gulps of ale from the tankard in front of him, and finding it empty, he threw it down suddenly. The young hobbit watched as one of her father’s favorite tankards shattered on the cobblestone floor, and she glared at the dwarf angrily._

_“Another!” Dwalin demanded._

_Bella shook her head, and unable to bear the sight of him, trekked down the hallway to check on Bilbo._

_He was standing in the doorway, where there was a very old-looking dwarf on the step with a white beard and a deep scarlet cloak; and he too hopped inside just as if he had been invited._

_"I see they have begun to arrive already," he said when he caught sight of Dwalin's cloak hanging up. He hung his red one next to it, and "Balin at your service!" he said with his hand on his breast._

_Bella just shook her head in disbelief. _By Yavanna, the Shire’s being invaded._ _

_"Thank you!" said Bilbo with a gasp._

_It was not the correct thing to say, but _ **they** have begun to arrive_ had flustered him badly. He and his sister liked visitors, but they liked to know them before they arrived (Took cousins notwithstanding), and they preferred to ask them themselves. _

_"Come along in, and have some tea!" he managed to say after taking a deep breath, for he didn’t know what else to say (and indeed, what was one more dwarf when there was already one in the kitchen). “Bella,” he said, “Here comes another!”_

_"A little beer would suit me better, if it is all the same to you, my good sir," said Balin with the white beard. "But I don't mind some seed cake, if you have any."_

_"Lots!" Bilbo found himself answering, to his own surprise; and he found himself scuttling off (past his sister who was making her way back to the kitchen with the new guest) to the cellar to fill a pint beer mug, and to the pantry to fetch two beautiful round seed cakes which he had baked that afternoon for Bella’s breakfast in the morning. When he got back Balin and Dwalin were talking at the table like old friends (as a matter of fact they were brothers). Bella was sitting on the chair that was placed in the corner of the room by the fire with an unreadable expression on her face._

_“Are you alright?” Bilbo asked her, and she shrugged her shoulders at him in an answer._

_Bilbo plumped down the beer and the cake in front of dwarves, when a loud ring at the bell came, and then another ring. He looked at his sister, but she was focused on the two dwarves in front of them. Dwalin and Balin were now talking in what he assumed was some dwarf-tongue, for it was not a language Bilbo knew. He made his way back to his front door._

_"If this is Gandalf, we will be having some words,” he said as he puffed along the passage._

_But it was not. It was two more dwarves, both with blue hoods, armed to the teeth. One light-haired with a decent beard, and the other dark haired with a short one. Each of them carried a bag of tools and a spade. In they hopped, as soon as the door began to open. Seeing the coats and weapons laid out in the hall, they began to throw their things around as well. Bilbo was hardly surprised at all.  
"What can I do for you, my dwarves?" he said. _

_"Kili at your service!" said the one (the dark haired)._

_"And Fili!" added the other; and they both swept off their blue hoods and bowed._

_"At yours and your family's!" replied Bilbo, remembering his manners this time. Although he very nearly lost them a moment later when Kili began to scrape his mud-covered boots on his mother’s glory box that was sitting next to the door._

_"Dwalin and Balin here already, I see," said Kili. "Let us join the throng!"_

__Throng!_ thought Bilbo Baggins, _I don't like the sound of that. I really must sit down for a minute and collect my wits, and have a drink. What will Bella have to say about a throng of dwarves in our house?__

_He made his way down to the cellar and quickly returned with a flagon in hand. Standing next to his sister, he offered her the first drink of wine from it (she had caught sight of the newest dwarves currently sitting at her table). Bilbo had only just had a sip in the corner, while the four dwarves sat around the table, and talked about mines and gold and troubles with the goblins, and the depredations of dragons, and lots of other things which the Baggin’s siblings did not understand, and did not want to (for they sounded much too adventurous) when his bell rang again, as if some naughty little hobbit boy was trying to pull the handle off._

_"Someone else at the door!" Bella said, blinking._

_"Some four, I should say by the sound," said Fili. "Besides, we saw them coming along behind us in the distance."_

_That was it for Bilbo and Bella. They left the comfort of their kitchen before they said something not at all polite. The poor little hobbits sat down in the hall and Bilbo put his head in his hands, and Bella wondered what had happened, and what was going to happen, and whether they would all stay to supper, and what was she to do if they did. Then the bell rang again louder than ever, and she had to run to the door. It was not four after all, it was **FIVE**. And unfortunately for her, they had all been leaning against the door when she opened it. Consequently, they all fell into the hall and on top of poor Bella. _

_“Bell!” Bilbo exclaimed, and went to dig his sister out from under the pile of dwarves._

_As he pulled her to her feet, he looked out the door and noticed three more bodies coming up the pathway. And there was Gandalf behind, leaning on his staff and laughing._

_Dori, Nori, Ori, Oin, and Gloin were the names of the dwarves who had nearly been the death of Belladonna Baggins the Second (who was very out of breath once her brother was finally able to pull her free). Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur were the three behind the confunded Wizard. Very soon even more cloaks were hung in the hall of Bag End, and even more weapons were stashed in the umbrella stand or leaned against the wall, and off they marched (muttering to each other about supper, which made Bella turn positively white) with their broad hands stuck in their belts to join the others. Already it had almost become a throng. Some called for ale, and some for porter, and one for coffee, and all of them for cakes; so the hobbits were kept very busy for a while. A big jug of coffee had just been set in the hearth, the seed cakes were gone, and the dwarves were starting on a round of buttered scones. Bilbo was running himself ragged serving the dwarves, and Bella was standing in front of the Wizard growing steadily and steadily angrier. She had just opened her mouth to confront him when a final loud knock came at the door. Everyone suddenly grew quiet, and the silence felt heavy._

_“He is here.” Gandalf said._


	4. Of Table Talks

“Who is here?” Bella demanded, only to be hushed by one hard look from Gandalf.

The Grey Wizard made his way to the front door (and if he had to stoop and duck his head through every doorway, that was his business, for a smial was most certainly not built with any Big Folk in mind) and opened it. 

Bella and Bilbo made their way through the gaggle of dwarves who were all now standing in the hall, having moved there once they heard the knock. They all stared at the dwarf beyond the door. He was dark haired and carried an air of pride and importance with him. It was clear to all those present (including the two who had yet to make his acquaintance) that he was a Very Important Dwarf. 

He stood tall, and Bella reckoned that he was the tallest in the bunch with the exception of Dwalin (and Gandalf of course, but who was thinking of him at this moment). His beard was short, probably the shortest of all of the dwarves currently standing in the hall of Bag End. Bilbo looked from him to Kili and wondered if they might be related. The newest dwarf had his eyebrows cocked up, and he leveled a look at the Wizard. 

“Gandalf,” he said, “I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way twice. I wouldn’t have found it at all if it hadn’t been for that mark on the door.”

Bilbo squeaked indignantly and stomped over to examine the door himself. “Mark? There’s no mark on that door, I painted it a week ago!” Upon observing the aforementioned mark with his own eyes he glared at Gandalf. 

“There is a mark, I put it there myself. Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield.” 

Bilbo bowed his head to the dwarf out of habit. 

Bella stepped to the door, and after examining the symbol at the base of it she shut it softly. Turning, she observed Master Oakenshield with her brother. _Oakenshield_ , she thought, _how do I know that name?_ Thorin was looking Bilbo up and down (not unlike a hobbit evaluating meat at a market). Bella knew that look from years of experience haggling Fatty Bolger over his beef selections. This Master Oakenshield did not like the looks of her brother, and the thought offended her greatly. Master Oakenshield stepped towards her brother until they were nearly chest to chest and crossed his arms (being a polite and respectable hobbit, of course, Bella took no notice of how muscular they appeared even under all the layers he was wearing. she did not peak, no sir, and she did not blush even the slightest at the thought of being present in front of all these dwarves in her brother's clothes. indeed, it was the first moment during the entire crazy evening that she even spared a thought to her attire, or lack thereof). 

“So,” he said, “This is the hobbit.” 

Bella continued to watch as the dwarf circled her brother like a cat circled a mouse. Bilbo, for his part, did not even flinch at the scrutiny. All the other dwarves looked on as their leader conducted his inspection. 

“Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?” 

Bilbo was stunned at the question. “I beg your pardon?” 

The confusing dwarf raised an eyebrow, “Axe? Sword? What is your weapon of choice?” 

“Well, I do have some skill at Conkers, if you must know, but I fail to see why that's relevant.” 

Master Oakenshield and all the other dwarves laughed at what apparently was a funny joke to them. 

“Thought as much. He looks more like a grocer than a burglar.” 

Well. That was the last straw for Bella. 

“Now look here, sir,” she exclaimed, “I don’t know where you think you come from, but I’ll not have that talk in my smial. Being a grocer is a perfectly respectable trade, and I will have you know that there is more than one grocer to be found in the Baggins family. I’ll not allow you to come into my home, stomp mud over my floors, and insult the members of my family. Have you seen the state of my home? You lot have pillaged my pantry, destroyed my plumbing, and generally made a nuisance of yourselves without so much as a by-your-leave. I am quite fed up with this sir, quite fed up indeed. You are rude, sir. Very rude indeed. I’d thank you to leave now. Go bother some other poor, unsuspecting hobbit, for I say that I have had it with you lot today. Gandalf, it’s been a lovely visit, but we will have no more guests tonight. As you can see, I have a lot of cleaning to do, and I say it’s best to do it with you gone.”

Thorin looked completely unimpressed and unthreatened by her (in her own opinion) rather magnificent speech. The other dwarves looked at the young hobbit with interest. 

“Master Baggins, I suggest you gain control of your younger sibling,” Thorin said airly. 

“ **YOUNGEST??!** ” Bella exploded, “I will have you know, sir, that I am the eldest and as the eldest I demand that you leave my home!” 

The room grew quite dark and cold, and the air all seemed to rush around in a circular motion. Bella drew in on herself and looked around fearfully. All eyes turned to the wizard, whose expression had grown dark with anger. 

“Bungo Baggins, that is quite enough,” he barked. Bella’s eyes widened, and grew wider as the Wizard continued, “Is this how your parents raised you? You will not turn your guests out on your doorstep, I say. Your mother would expect better of you.” 

Bella stared at the Wizard. Two things were bothering her, the first being the fact that he called her by her fathers name. This she filed away to worry over later. The second was that he had called these intruders her guests. 

“You dare speak to me of how my parents raised me?” she asked in a quiet and dangerous tone. Bilbo winced, having been on the receiving end of his sister’s anger far too many times, “You’ve been gone for decades, Wizard, and they are long cold in the grave. You were not here to watch them die, you were not here to bury them. I did that. Do not speak to me of my mother, who you called your friend, when you were not here in her most desperate hour of need.” 

The dwarves had grown somber as she spoke, and Master Oakenshield observed the hobbit with an unreadable expression. Bilbo, for his part, knew better than to interrupt. 

“You bring this throng of dwarves here without any kind of warning, and you expect me to open my home to them unconditionally?” 

“Without warning?” Dwalin asked, “We were told there would be supper waiting, and there was.” 

“That was our snack,” Bilbo interjected, “We had no knowledge of your coming.” 

That was that. Dwalin turned an incredulous expression on Bilbo. “You call that feast a mere snack.” Bilbo nodded. 

Master Oakenshield spoke to the Wizard. “You told me the final member was here waiting.” 

“Well,” Bella said, “No one was waiting for you or expected you. So I’ll thank you for leaving now. I’ve had quite enough of dwarves. And old meddlesome Wizards who think they still look nice in robes.” 

She was ignored of course, as Gandalf spoke over her, and assured the dwarves that everything was fine and that it would be sorted out in short order. Bella sputtered a few more indignant objections, but to no avail. The dwarves made their way back into the kitchen where they set out the leftovers for their leader. Bilbo walked over to his sister and slung an arm around her shoulder, whispering comforting words in her ear. 

“Did you hear him call me Bungo?” she asked. 

Bilbo nodded. “I wonder what that’s about. Might as well let him, though. No telling what he will do if we don’t.” Bella agreed with her brother. 

They looked at each other and looked down the hall to the kitchen. They could smell a pipe, and in their hearts they knew that Gandalf was smoking in their kitchen. 

“Should we go down there?” Bella asked. 

Bilbo shrugged. “Might as well, might be able to find out why they’re all here.” 

They walked down to the kitchen hand in hand and observed the dwarves who were seated once more at the table. The group was clearly in a conference with one another. 

“What news from the meeting in Ered Luin? Did they all come?” Balin asked his leader eagerly. 

“Aye. Envoys from all seven kingdoms. Dain and all the rest.” 

The table broke out in murmurs of wonder. 

“And what did the dwarves of the Iron Hills say? Is he with us?” Dwalin demanded.

Bilbo and Bella both watched as Master Oakenshield’s head dropped towards the table. He took several more bites out of his bowl before setting down his spoon and sighing heavily. “They will not come. They say this quest is ours and ours alone.” 

The dwarves in Bag End sat back in their chairs for a brief moment before they rioted, tossing things and angry words around the kitchen until Master Oakenshield made them settle back down. Bilbo looked curious, and that scared Bella. 

“You're going on a quest?” Bilbo asked.

He was standing next to Gandalf when he spoke, and the Wizard tapped him lightly on the shoulder. Gesturing towards the door, he asked the young hobbit to get him a light. Bilbo looked at his sister, who received a hard stare from the wizard. She shrugged her shoulders, unable to object. Despite her words, it appeared that the group was here to stay, so she might as well make the best of it. With Bella’s permission, Bilbo left the room and swiftly returned with a candle, which he handed to Gandalf. Gandalf meanwhile had pulled a map out of his robes and spread it across a clear part of the table. The Wizard held out his hand, and Bilbo gave him the candle. Bella felt the air grow heavy, and a somber mood overtook everyone in the room. 

“Far to the east, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary peak. The Lonely Mountain.” His finger pointed at a section of the map.

“The Lonely Mountain?” Bilbo couldn't stop himself from asking as he leaned down to better see the document. His eyes grew wide as he observed the red dragon marking the location that Gandalf gestured to. He ignored the glare his sister shot him.

“Aye!” The dwarf known as Gloin exclaimed, “Oin has read the portents and the portents say it is time.”

All the other dwarves groaned upon hearing this, as this was clearly not the first time that it had been said. Bilbo continued to ignore his sister and listened eagerly. Bella, for her part (though the Baggins side of her would never admit it) was also listening eagerly though she was trying to appear as if she wasn’t. Unfortunately for her, she was failing, and she also failed to notice that every so often Master Oakenshield was glancing her way with a keen look in his eyes.

“Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain as it was foretold: when the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end.” Oin proclaimed. 

Bilbo looked up at the grey-haired dwarf. “What beast?” 

“Well, that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age.” Fili stated. 

“You know, airborne fire-breather, teeth like razors, claws like meathooks. Extremely fond of precious metals.” Kili continued airily.

“Yes, I know what a dragon is.” Bilbo retorted. 

Bella suddenly knew who was in her kitchen. 

“I’ll thank you to give me a little more warning, Wizard, before you expect me to provide supper for a King.” 

Thorin sat back in his seat suddenly, and all the dwarves looked up from the map to stare warily at the hobbit in the doorway. Bilbo looked from his sister to Thorin in awe.   
“Of course,” he said, “I don’t know why I didn’t see it.” 

“And how would you know that, laddie?” Dwalin asked. 

Bella wasn’t certain who exactly he was speaking to, but she did not appreciate the dangerous lilt to his tone. “Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror. We were taught about you in history. You are the King Without a Mountain, currently ruling your people as King-In-Exile in Ered Luin.” She gestured to the map on her table, “I take this to mean that you are going to attempt to take back your kingdom. Where is your army? Where are your people? You expect me to believe that you and this small group mean to take back that mountain yourselves?” 

Thorin glared coldly at the hobbit, clearly growing angrier at every word she spoke. It gave Bella a sense of satisfaction to finally aggravate someone the way that she had been aggravated all evening. 

“The task to win back the mountain would be difficult enough with an army behind us.” Balin said indignantly. 

“I’m not afraid,” cried Ori, jumping up and brandishing a dagger, “I’ll give him a taste of dwarvish steel right up his jacksie!” 

“Now you sit down!” Dori yanked the young dwarf back into his seat and promptly removed the dagger from his hand. 

“You may not have the numbers,” Bella stated, “But they would help.” 

Balin nodded in agreement, “The hobbit is right, we number just thirteen, and not necessarily thirteen of the best and brightest.” 

The dwarves all squawked at the insult. 

“We may be few in numbers, but we're fighters. All of us, to the last dwarf.” Fili said proudly. 

“And you forget,” Kili added, “we have a Wizard in our company. Gandalf must have killed hundreds of dragons in his time.”

It brought Bella a certain sense of joy to see the Wizard begin to squirm. “Well, no, I wouldn't say that I…” 

Bella cut him off gleefully, already suspecting the answer. “How many then?” 

Gandalf glared at her. “What?” 

“How many dragons have you killed? Go on, give us a number!”

Gandalf sucked in a large draft from his pipe just then and began to choke, coughing helplessly. The dwarves understood his silence, and began to shout at him, most of it in a language that neither Bella nor Bilbo could comprehend. They could knew the tone, however, and understood that Gandalf had earned himself quite a tongue lashing. Bella and Bilbo looked at each other helplessly, unsure of what to do. They needn’t have worried, however. 

Thorin slammed his now empty bowl onto the table and threw himself back. As he stood up violently, the chair he had been sitting on fell to the floor and cracked. Bella winced at the destruction of her property. 

“ **ENOUGH!** ” he shouted. The dwarves fell silent, all eyes trained on their leader.

“If we have read these signs, do you not _think_ others will have read them too? Rumours have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look east to the mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back as others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?”

The dwarves let out a rambunctious cheer. Only one stayed quiet.

“You forget,” said Balin somberly, “the front gate is sealed! There is no way into the mountain.” 

Bella scoffed. “Oh, I highly doubt that.” 

Thorin glanced at her. “And what would a mere Halfling know about a dwarvish kingdom?” 

Bilbo, who had been silent this whole time (for indeed, he had been listening and wondering and watching) started at the words that had been spoken. Bella watched as her brother’s face turned red, but she held up her hand and shook her head at him. Yes, her pride was smarting at the insult, but she would not rise to the bait. 

“I may not be a dwarf, sir,” she stated, “But I know enough of homes that every good one always has a back door. We build them in case of fire or robbers, and I doubt that any Man, elf, hobbit, or dwarf would build a kingdom so vast as the Lonely Mountain and only have one way in or out. If that is not the case, however, then your forefathers brought their own doom upon them not leaving an escape route for your people.” 

Thorin observed Bella with a keen look in his eye and a surprised expression on his face. 

“Quite right, Bungo,” Bella cut a dirty look at Gandalf as he continued, “That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true.” Holding out his hand, the Wizard spun his fingers around several times and the group watched in awe as a key (which was clearly of dwarvish make) appeared in his hand. 

Thorin’s eyes filled with a desperate hope and wonder. “How came you by this?” he asked, his voice breaking slightly at the end. Gandalf looked at him sadly. 

“Your father, Thrain, gave it to me to keep safe until it was time. You are ready now, it is time.”

Everyone watched in awe as the Wizard handed theKing-in-Exile the key to his kingdom. Bella and Bilbo both felt a sense of ceremony in the transfer, and to her shock Bella felt a tear trickle down her cheek as she observed the look of sadness that crossed Thorin’s face. It was only there for an instant, and then it was gone again. 

“Well, if there is a key,” Bilbo said, “then there must be a door.”

“Quite right, Bilbo. These ruins speak of another secret passage into the lower halls.” Gandlaf pointed to a small peak on the far end of the mountain. 

The dwarves all leaned in to observe the location he was pointing to. “There’s another way in,” Kili breathed. 

"It may have been secret once," said Thorin, "but how do we know that it is secret any longer? That snake has lived there long enough now to find out anything there is to know about those caves." 

"He may,” Gandlaf conceded, “but he can't have used it for years and years.” 

"Why?" Bella interjected. 

"Because it is too small. 'Five feet high the door and three may walk abreast' say the runes, but Smaug could not creep into a hole that size, not even when he was a young dragon, certainly not after devouring so many of the dwarves and men of Dale." 

"It seems a great big hole to me," squeaked Bilbo (who had no experience of dragons and only of hobbit holes) He was getting excited and interested again, so that he forgot to keep his mouth shut. Bella shot him a dirty look, but it was ignored. This angered her, but a part of her understood. Her brother loved maps, and in their hall there hung a large one of the Country Round with all his favourite walks marked on it in red ink. Bella wondered what would happen to it once Bag End was no longer theirs. 

_Lobelia will probably sell it, along with any other thing of value they loved._ She shuddered at the thought. 

"How could such a large door be kept secret from everybody outside, apart from the dragon?" Bilbo was asking. (After all, he was only a little hobbit.)

Gandalf nodded. “Well, if we can find it, but dwarf doors are invisible when closed.” He sighed heavily. “The answer lies hidden _somewhere_ in this map and I do not have the skill to find it. But there are others in Middle Earth who can. The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth, and no small amount of courage. But, if we are careful and clever, I believe that it can be done.” He sat back as he finished speaking and took another puff of his pipe. 

Ori lifted his finger, a light going on in his eyes. Dori glared at him, but the cutting look did not prevent the young dwarf from speaking, “That's why we need a burglar.” 

Bilbo was still looking down at the map. For reasons he could not explain, he felt quite tense and a little energetic, and he pulled out his suspenders to give his hands some odd task to do. “A good one too. An expert, I'd imagine.” The table turned their attentions to the young hobbit, and Bella did not like the look in Gandalf’s eyes.

“And are you?” Gloin asked.

Bilbo glanced up to see the whole table eying him eagerly (with the exception of his sister, who he noted was turning an interesting shade of red). He looked behind him, half expecting to see another dwarf sneaking down the hallway. Realizing that he was in fact the one being addressed, he turned a confused face back to the dwarves. “Am I _what_ , exactly?”

"He said he's an expert!” Oin cried. 

“No, no, no,” Bella said hastily, “That’s not what he said at all.” She noticed Oin’s ear trumpet for the first time, and smacked herself in the forehead. He couldn’t hear a word she said (and of course no one else cared to listen, they were all too busy celebrating their good fortune in the finding of an expert burglar). 

Bilbo was furious. _First my sister is a Halfling, and now I’m a thief?_ “Me? No, no, no, I'm not a burglar. I've never stolen a thing in my life.” He rocked back on his fett, the matter quite settled in his opinion. 

Balin looked the hobbit up and down, and Bilbo (for his part) stood straight under the scrutiny. “I'm afraid I have to agree with Mr. Baggins. He's hardly burglar material.”

Bella nodded her head eagerly, glad someone was seeing sense. 

“Aye,” Dwalin agreed with his brother, “the wild is no place for gentlefolk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves.” 

The hobbits may have agreed with what the fierce dwarf had to say, but they still colored at the insult. They chose to ignore it however. Bilbo turned a triumphant glance at Gandalf, only to take a step back when he saw the look on the Wizard’s face. 

“ **ENOUGH!** If I say that Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is! Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet! In fact, they can go unseen by most if they choose.”

“Now look here,” Bella shouted, drawing attention to herself, “That is private information! Not to be shared with outsiders! I don’t even know how you know about it.”   
“What is private information?” Balin asked. Bella just shook her head, unwilling to say anything more. 

“What I know is my business, Baggins,” said the Wizard haughtily, “I will share it with who I wish. Now, let me continue. While the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of a hobbit is all but unknown to him which gives us a distinct advantage. Just let anyone say I chose the wrong man or the wrong house, and you can stop at thirteen and have all the bad luck you like, or go back to digging coal. Let's have no more arguments. I have chosen Mr. Baggins and that ought to be enough for all of you. There is a lot more in him than you guess, and a deal more than he has any idea of himself. You may (possibly) all live to thank me yet.” 

“You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company and it is Mr. Baggins,” Gandlaf continued on, “You must trust me on this.”

Thorin sighed heavily. “Very well,” he agreed, “we'll do it your way. Balin, give him the contract.”

Bella turned her wide eyes to the older dwarf. “Now see here,” she exclaimed, but he was already speaking. 

“It's just the usual summary of out of pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements and so forth.”

Balin handed the thick document to Thorin, who turned and shoved it into Bilbo’s hands. Unable to do anything else he grasped it. Bella walked around the table to stand beside her brother. They both stared at the folded-up paper. 

“Funeral arrangements?” They exclaimed. 

Bella took the document from her brother and unfolded it. It fell down to her feet and was still heavily creased and folded. The Baggins siblings stepped back into the hall so they could read the small print in the light of the lamp.

“Terms: cash on delivery, up to, but not exceeding one eighth of total profit, if any. Well, that’s more than fair I guess. Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof, including, but not limited to - lacerations?” Unfolding another flap of paper, Bella paused and turned back to the table and walked up behind Thorin.

“Now what’s this about?” she demanded. “Evisceration? Incineration?” 

“Oh, he'll melt the flesh off yer bones in the blink of an eye.” Bofur said cheekily. 

Bilbo felt a tightening in his chest. He came up behind his sister and laid a heavy hand on his shoulder, his face whiter than a sheet. Bella, for her part, couldn’t draw a single breath. Spots were dancing in front of her eyes. The contract fell on the floor, and Gandalf scooped it up. Balin looked at them both with concern on his face. 

“You alright, laddie?” BILBO 

“Yes, but I feel a bit faint.” Bilbo stuttered. 

“Some air wouldn't be amiss.” Bella said faintly. _You’re not going to faint, girl, you’re not going to faint. You are a Baggins of Bag End, and this is your home. You will not faint._

The dwarves looked at the siblings with strange expressions of glee on their faces. Thorin knew what they were about, of course, but made no move to stop it. Gandalf also did not interrupt, being preoccupied with straightening out the contract that Bella had so unceremoniously dropped on her dining room floor. 

“Think furnace, with wings.” Fili said cheekily, nudging Bofur. 

“Flash of light,” the other dwarf added, “searing pain, then - **POOF!** ” The siblings jumped at the added volume. 

“After that, you’re nothing more than a pile of ash.” Kili finished gleefully. 

_Pile of ash!_ Bilbo’s hand slid off of Bella’s shoulder, and he began to pant rapidly. Bella was frozen where she stood, unable to move. Bilbo leaned over and put his hands on his knees and his head between them, trying to compose himself as the others looked on. 

_You will not faint, you foolish hobbit, you will not…._

Bella was jerked out of her thoughts by her brother, who stood up suddenly. 

“Bilbo?” 

He took a step back and looked at the table. He shook his head briefly, and with a sharp, “Nope.”  
He fell to the floor in a dead faint. 

“Well, that was very helpful.” Gandalf grumbled.


	5. Of Thorin Oakenshield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin observed the two hobbits in front of him. The smaller of the two (who claimed to be the elder, which puzzled the dwarf, maybe he had been ill at some point and that stunted his growth) was currently bent over the prone body of his brother, patting his cheeks and twittering nervously about being a Baggins, and this was not how proper Baggins behaved, and wouldn’t he please wake up and not leave us alone with these dratted dwarves. 

“Now, now, Bungo,” Gandalf said in what was meant to be a comforting tone, “Best put him in a chair and give him a moment.” 

The young hobbit turned his eyes towards the Wizard with such anger in them that Thorin felt tempted to take several steps back. He wondered how something so little could be so fierce. Indeed, he felt a twinge of my ration for the small thing. Anyone who was willing to turn that kind of anger on a Wizard was brave indeed. 

“Now look here, you old goat, I’m quite done. Quite fed up, yes indeed. I’ll not have this terror a moment longer, you take your contract, and you take your dwarves, and you leave my home. My brother and I want peace, and sooner rather than later.” 

“Settle down,” Gandalf scolded him, “There will be peace enough, and soon.” 

Bilbo Baggins chose at that moment to stir, taking his brother’s attention away from the Wizard who was now staring discomfitingly at the pair. The smaller hobbit pulled his brother up by the arm and allowed him to lean heavily on him. As they made their way to an adjoining sitting room Thorin caught the eye of the Wizard and jerked his head. The Wizard allowed himself to be led by the dwarf into the hall. 

“What mean you by this? You promised me a burglar and you led me to a half-wit and his brother.”

“Did you not listen to what I said? You will have Bilbo Baggins or you will not have anyone and be left with thirteen dwarves. See where that type of luck gets you.” Gandalf’s voice grew grave, “If you do not take him, your quest will fail. Do not ask me how I know this, just accept it. It will all become clear.” 

Thorin was still not satisfied with the answer, but he also knew better than to question a Wizard. He turned back to his group of dwarves and eyed the mess that they had all made. He shook his head at them, and they all began to look sheepish. 

“Clean this up.” 

Bungo had just come around the corner, cup in hand. Must be getting his brother a drink, Thorin guessed. The hobbit's eyes widened as he took in the way the dwarves were currently handling his cutlery. 

“Now see here,” he spluttered as he came to a stop next to Thorin in the doorway, “That’s quite enough.” He spotted Nori wiping down the table. “That’s a doily, not a dishcloth!” 

“But it’s full of holes,” Fili said from the other end of the table, where he had another doily poised in his palm. 

“It's supposed to look like that, it's crochet.” 

“That’s a fun game,” Kili came up behind the pair and wagged his eyebrows at the hobbit, “If you have the balls for it that is.” 

Thorin looked on, chuckling as the hobbit appeared to choke on his own tongue. He motioned his nephew forward and the lad began to collect the dishes off the table. The hobbit managed to find his voice and began to shout. 

“Why, that’s my mother’s West Farthing Crockery! And her good silver besides! Who was digging in my china cabinet?” He glared down the table where Bofur was beginning to tap a merry tune with the knives. “Be careful with those, I’ve just had them sharpened. I don’t need them blunted.” 

“You hear that lads,” Bofur called out as he continued to tap, “He says we’ll blunt the knives!” 

Everyone knew what Bofur was about, and feet began to pat out a jolly rhythm on the floor. To the hobbit’s great horror, the dwarves began to sing as they threw the dishes around the room. Thorin cast out an arm and grasped the hobbit by the shoulder in order to prevent him from doing something rash. 

_Blunt the knives and bend the forks!  
Smash the bottles and burn the corks.  
Smash the bottles and crack the plates,  
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!  
Cut the cloth and tread on the fat!  
Pour the milk on the pantry floor!  
Leave the bones on the bedroom mat!  
Splash the wine on every door!  
Dump the crocks in a boiling bawl;  
Pound them up with a thumping pole;  
And when you've finished, if any are whole,  
Send them down the hall to roll!  
That's what Bungo Baggins hates!  
So, carefully! carefully with the plates!_

And of course they did none of these dreadful things, and everything was cleaned and put away safe as quick as lightning. They all lined up on one side of the kitchen as Thorin looked on approvingly. The hobbit jerked out of Thorin’s grasp and ran into the room where all the dwarves had placed themselves once they were done with the dishes. Thorin followed behind and was able to witness the shock on his face once he realized that the work was done, the kitchen was clean, and the scraps placed into a bucket for the pig. 

“Oh,” he said quietly, “Well then.” 

He went about his business getting his brother a cup of wine, and swiftly brought it to the sitting room where Gandalf had joined Bilbo. 

“What’s this about,” Thorin heard the elder hobbit ask. 

“I’m just sitting quietly for a moment, my dear.” The younger brother responded.

“You’ve been sitting quietly for far too long,” Gandalf cut in, “Come now. When did doilies and your mother's dishes become so important to you? I remember a pair of young hobbits who were always running off in search of elves in the woods. They'd stay out late, trailing mud and twigs and fireflies. Young hobbits who would have liked nothing better than to find out what was beyond the borders of the Shire.” He paused to level a heavy stare at the two, “The world is not in your walls, nor is it limited to the bounds of the Shire. It cannot be found in your books and maps. It's out there. Indeed, it doesn’t take a Wizard to know your younger brother for adventure. What is keeping you from letting him go? 

Thorin watched as the Wizard pointed to the window through which the moonlight gleamed softly. He had not realized that it was so late in the evening. 

“We can't just go running off into the blue!” Bungo exclaimed, “We are the Baggins of Bag End! You may think us odd for putting such stock in our possessions, but they only became dear to us after the loss of our parents. Our things are all we have of them, so I think we have the right to consider them important! And as for my brother, my parents entrusted me with him. I promised to take care of him. My brother, my responsibility. So I’ll thank you not to do my job.” 

“You may be a Baggins, young hobbit, but you are also a Took.” 

_Tooks? Baggins?_ All these terms confused Thorin quite thoroughly. He wondered what they had to do with whether or not Bilbo would sign the contract. He moved away from the doorway and on into a second sitting room where all the other dwarves had migrated. Balin joined him in observing the others pulling out their bedrolls and bunking down for the night. 

“It appears we have lost our burglar.” Balin sighed, “Probably for the best. The odds were always against us. After all, what are we? Merchants, miners, tinkers, toy-makers; hardly the stuff of legend.” He gestured to the group of dwarves and hung his head a little. 

Thorin shook his head in disagreement. “There are a few warriors amongst us.” 

“Old warriors.” Balin said flatly. 

Thorin’s voice grew hard. “I will take each and every one of these dwarves over an army from the Iron Hills. For when I called upon them, they came. Loyalty, honor, a willing heart; I can ask no more than that.”

Balin looked at the younger dwarf, taking in how tired and wan he appeared. He may not have looked that way to the others, but Balin had served Thorin’s grandfather and had practically raised the dwarf before him. He knew him better than anyone else present, except for perhaps Dwalin. 

“You don't have to do this you know.” He told Thorin, “You have a choice. You've done honorably by our people. You have built us a new life for us in the Blue Mountains, a life of peace and plenty. A life that is worth more than all the gold in Erebor.” 

Thorin reached into the breast pocket of his coat and pulled out the key that Gandalf had given him earlier in the evening. He felt the weight of it in his hand, and for the first time he really looked it it. He could see the marks of the Line of Durin forged into the metal, and he knew that one of his kin had made this very key as they forged the kingdom of Erebor. His eyes grew misty with tears that he would never let fall. 

“From my grandfather to my father, this has come to me. They dreamt of the day when the dwarves of Erebor would reclaim their homeland. There is no choice, Balin. Not for me.” He pocketed the key once more. 

Balin nodded resolutely. “Then we are with you, laddie. We'll see it done.” 

“Uncle,” Kili called from his place by the fire, “Tell us a story.” All the other dwarves nodded in agreement. Thorin spared his nephew a rare smile and sat in a chair in front of the fireplace. 

“And what do you desire to hear?” 

Kili’s eyes were shining. “Tell us of Erebor. Tell us of our home.” 

Thorin closed his eyes, and let his mind drift back hundreds of years to a much happier time in his life (and indeed, in the lives of all dwarves from all seven kingdoms). 

_"Long ago in my grandfather Thror's time, our family was driven out of the far North, and came back with all their wealth and their tools to this Mountain on the map Gandalf gave us. It had been discovered by my far ancestor, Thrain the Old, but now they mined and they tunnelled and they made huger halls and greater workshops and in addition I believe they found a good deal of gold and a great many jewels too. It became one of the greatest kingdoms of all Middle Earth, Erebor.”_

_All the dwarves sat in various chairs, or on the floor when the chairs ran out. Their sole focus was on the dwarf in front of them, who did not open his eyes as he spoke. None of them knew it, but there were two hobbits eavesdropping around the corner, having been talking quietly together until this moment._

_“My grandfather became King Under the Mountain, and he was the mightiest of the dwarf lords. He ruled with utter surety, never doubting that the line of Durin would fall. He thought his line secure in my father, Thrain, and in myself and my siblings.”_

A tone of grief overpowered his voice, and a dark look crossed his face. He sat there for a moment quietly before shaking himself and continuing on:

_“Anyway, they grew immensely rich and famous, and my grandfather was King under the Mountain and treated with great reverence by the mortal men, who lived to the South, and were gradually spreading up the Running River as far as the valley overshadowed by the Mountain. They built the merry town of Dale there in those days._

_Kings used to send for our smiths, and reward even the least skilful most richly. Our craft could not be matched by any other, not even the most unskilled. Fathers would beg us to take their sons as apprentices, and pay us handsomely, especially in food supplies, which we never bothered to grow or find for ourselves._

_Altogether those were good days for us, and the poorest of us had money to spend and to lend, and leisure to make beautiful things (just for the fun of it), not to speak of the most marvellous and magical toys, the like of which is not to be found in the world nowadays. So my grandfather's halls became full of armour and jewels and carvings and cups, and the toy market of Dale was the wonder of the North.”_

The dark look returned Thorin’s face, and this time it did not disappear. The dwarves of course at all heard this tale before, and knew what direction it was leading. A somber mood over took them all. 

_"Undoubtedly that was what brought the dragon. Dragons steal gold and jewels, you know, from men and elves and dwarves, wherever they can find them; and they guard their plunder as long as they live (which is practically forever, unless they are killed), and never enjoy a brass ring of it. Indeed they hardly know a good bit of work from a bad one (though they usually have a good notion of the current market value); and they can't make a thing for themselves, not even mend a little loose scale of their own armour._

_There were lots of dragons in the North in those days, and gold was probably getting scarce up there, with the dwarves flying south or getting killed, and all the general waste and destruction that dragons make going from bad to worse. There was a most specially greedy, strong and wicked worm called Smaug. One day he flew up into the air and came south._

_The first we heard of it was a noise like a hurricane coming from the North, and the pinetrees on the Mountain creaking and cracking in the wind. Some of the dwarves who happened to be outside (I was one luckily a fine adventurous lad in those days, always wandering about, and it saved my life that day)well, from a good way off we saw the dragon settle on our mountain in a spout of flame. Then he came down the slopes and when he reached the woods they all went up in fire. By that time all the bells were ringing in Dale and the warriors were arming. The dwarves rushed out of their great gate; but there was the dragon waiting for them. None escaped that way._

_The river rushed up in steam and a fog fell on Dale, and in the fog the dragon came on them and destroyed most of the warriors. Then he went back and crept in through the Front Gate and routed out all the halls, and lanes, and tunnels, alleys, cellars, mansions and passages. After that there were no dwarves left alive inside, and he took all their wealth for himself._

_Probably, for that is the dragons' way, he has piled it all up in a great heap far inside, and sleeps on it for a bed. Later he used to crawl out of the great gate and come by night to Dale, and carry away people, especially maidens, to eat, until Dale was ruined, and all the people dead or gone. What goes on there now I don't know for certain, but I don't suppose anyone lives nearer to the Mountain than the far edge of the Long Lake nowadays.”_

Thorin now noticed the two hobbits now standing in the doorway observing them all quietly. He continued speaking:

_"The few of us that were well outside sat and wept in hiding, and cursed Smaug; and there we were unexpectedly joined by my father and my grandfather with singed beards. They led a small group of the youngest of us who lived in the mountain. They looked very grim but they said very little. When I asked how they had got away, they told me to hold my tongue, and said that one day in the proper time I should know._

_After that we went away, and we have had to earn our livings as best we could up and down the lands, often enough sinking as low as blacksmith work or even coal mining. But we have never forgotten our stolen treasure. And even now, when I will allow we have a good bit laid by and are not so badly off.”_

Here Thorin paused to pat the pocket over his chest where the key was safely tucked away.

_"We still mean to get it back, and to bring our curses home to Smaug If we can. I have often wondered about my father's and my grandfather's escape. I see now they must have had a private side door which only they knew about._

_And so we moved on. And then there was Maria, and my grandfather was slain. And then my father disappeared. And here I am, king in exile, king without a home, king without his mountain. We will reclaim it, even if it costs our lives to do so. I trust every dwarf here with my life, and I pledge to you, that our people once again have a home.”_

They sat in silence for a good long while. (If the hobbits had been mind readers, which is one bit of magic they did not possess, then they would have known all the dwarves were thinking of Erebor.) Balin, Dwalin, and Thorin were the only dwarves in the troop that were at the mountain that day. Oin and Gloin were in the Iron Hills the day of the attack, Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur hailed from the Blue Mountains, Dori and Nori were traveling at the time, and Ori, Kili, and Fili (being the youngest) hadn’t yet been born. In some way or another, however, they all felt the loss. Whether it was from the fall of the Lonely Mountain or the battles that followed in an attempt to retake Moria, they had all lost someone to the effects of the dragon. 

They sat in silence for several long moments, until Bofur could bear the quiet no more. He pulled out a harmonica from one of the many pockets in his coat, and began to play a mournful tune. Thorin recognized the music, and reaching into his own coat he pulled out a small harp, barely bigger than his forearm. The hobbits watched as all the rest of the dwarves pulled small instruments out of various locations on their persons, and together they joined Bofur in playing the tune. The dwarves began to sing as their hosts listened to them in awe. 

_Far over the misty mountains cold  
To dungeons deep and caverns old  
We must away ere break of day  
To seek the pale enchanted gold.  
The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,  
While hammers fell like ringing bells  
In places deep, where dark things sleep,  
In hollow halls beneath the fells.  
For ancient king and elvish lord  
There many a gloaming golden hoard  
They shaped and wrought, and light they caught  
To hide in gems on hilt of sword.  
On silver necklaces they strung  
The flowering stars, on crowns they hung  
The dragonfire, in twisted wire  
They meshed the light of moon and sun.  
Far over the misty mountains cold  
To dungeons deep and caverns old  
We must away, ere break of day,  
To claim our longforgotten gold.  
Goblets they carved there for themselves  
And harps of gold; where no man delves  
There lay they long, and many a song  
Was sung unheard by men or elves.  
The pines were roaring on the height,  
The winds were moaning in the night.  
The fire was red, it flaming spread;  
The trees like torches biased with light,  
The bells were ringing in the dale  
And men looked up with faces pale;  
The dragon's ire more fierce than fire  
Laid low their towers and houses frail.  
The mountain smoked beneath the moon;  
The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom.  
They fled their hall to dying fall  
Beneath his feet, beneath the moon.  
Far over the misty mountains grim  
To dungeons deep and caverns dim  
We must away, ere break of day,  
To win our harps and gold from him! _

The song finished, Thorin turned his head to observe the two Halflings who were still standing at the door. They both had tears in their eyes, and though the sight of such frank emotion made him feel somewhat uncomfortable he admired the way they clung to one another. Having eavesdropped on their talk with the Wizard, he understood the loss they felt. It was similar to his own, having seen the death of his grandfather and brother. 

The smaller Halfling cleared his throat. “Give us the contract.” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said in a previous chapter, I rather see Bella played by Emilie de Ravin (from her character Bella in the TV show OUAT). It took me a few days to come up with a concept for a younger version of Bilbo (who here is a tween) but I saw an image of Tom Holland in a period costume and I knew it was him. All the rest are so perfectly cast in the movie that they may stay as they are. 
> 
> In terms of posting, first let me thank everyone who subscribed, commented, gave kudos, etc. I am currently participating in a workshop where I am observing in a highschool classroom, and it is during this time that I am doing the majority of my writing since there is nothing else for me to do but listen. I will be doing my best to post at least one chapter a day on the weekdays, and currently have no plans for posting on the weekends. I may miss the odd day, however, if I have to devote extra time to any of my assignments for college. 
> 
> In all honesty, I don't know what the length is going to be. I don't even have a target. I'm almost at 20K words and they haven't yet even left Bag End. I'm guessing I will be well over 100K before I am finished. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	6. Of Brave Hobbits

“Well, now, that’s a problem.” Balin said. “I only wrote the contract for fourteen shares. All the rest of us have signed for one-fourteenth, and it would mean an entire revision to make it out for one-fifteenth. Also, all the other members would have to agree to a lesser share.” 

Bella exchanged a look with her brother. “How much is one-fourteenth share worth?” she asked. 

The dwarves all burst out laughing. 

“You didn’t read the whole contract, did you?” Kili asked. 

“Well no,” Bilbo snapped, “We were a bit preoccupied with the thought of being incinerated.” 

“Master Boggins,” Fili interrupted the rant before it started, “We each signed for a share of the wealth that is to be found in Erebor. One-fourteenth share means one-fourteenth of the entire treasure. You’ll be richer than a king.” 

Bella and Bilbo both had dumbfounded expressions on their faces, and their eyes were as wide as saucers. The last thing the dwarf had said overtook their indignation at having their name mispronounced. 

“Well then,” Bella managed to stammer out, “the two of us will share our portion. Such wealth is more than two hobbits will ever be able to use in our lifetime.” 

The dwarves all looked at each other, dumbfounded expressions flashing across their faces. 

“You would turn down gold?” Nori asked slowly. 

“What use have we for it?” Bilbo asked, “All we honestly need is enough to live on, and from what you say we will have enough to live on for several lifetimes.” 

“But, but, it’s gold!” Gloin stammered. 

“And they, Master Gloin,” Gandlaf interjected, “are hobbits. They are simple creatures.” 

Bella grew hot under the collar at the unintentioned slight. Thorin kept staring at them with an unreadable expression on his face. 

Balin looked at Thorin. “Is that acceptable?” 

“Think of it as two burglars for the price of one.” Gandalf added. 

_Confounded Wizard!_

Thorin waved his hand. “Do what you will.” 

_Dratted dwarf!_

_Bilbo held out his hand. “Give me a pen, quick, before I change my mind.”_

_Bella grabbed one off the side table and handed it to her brother. “You first,” she said. Bilbo quickly scratched his name on the document, and Bella followed suit. Balin didn’t even glance at the signatures before he folded the contract back up and tucked it into an inner pocket of his waistcoat. Bella heard Gandalf let out a breath._

_“Well, that’s all in order then.”_

_Bella looked around the room. “What’s all this?” she asked, gesturing to the bedrolls._

_“Just finding a spot to sleep.”_

_The Baggins Hobbits exchanged incredulous looks._

_“You want to sleep _here_? In the parlor?” Bilbo asked the dwarves. _

_“It’s not so much of wanting,” Bofur said, “It’s just an open space. Makes it easier for us to pack up in the morning, get an early start.”_

_Bella felt horrified. For all the trouble the dwarves had caused her all night long, and for all that they had done nothing but speak over and ignore her, the hosting in her was absolutely disgusted with the thought of allowing her guests (however uninvited and unwelcome they might have been) to sleep on the floor of her mother’s parlor. This was partially because of the way that she had been raised (Baggins hobbits were meant to be polite, after all) and partially because she worried over the various family antiques that lived in the parlor._

_“Well, that won’t do at all.” Bella said, “We’ve more than enough bedrooms to house you all, if two don’t mind bunking two to a room. I assume you’re staying as well, Gandalf?”_

_The Wizard nodded, his hat bobbing up and down._

_“You can have Mama and Papa’s room, it’s the only one with a bed that might fit you. Bilbo and I will sleep in my room tonight, and the other seven can be divided however you wish. Brother, show them down the hall, will you? I’ll go pull some linen out of the closet.”_

_She ignored the gaping faces of all the dwarves (for you see, dwarves were not used to any kind of kind hospitality from a race that was not their own. Since the fall of the dragon, dwarves were regarded as cursed by some, greedy by others, and disgusting by all) and hopped down the hallway to the aforementioned closet. She spent several minutes digging through it to pull out as many items of bedding as possible, since she didn’t know who would want more than sheets. As she rummaged through the closet she did not hear Gandalf coming up behind her._

_She closed the door once she got what she was after, and jumped when she took notice of the Wizard._

_“I think between the dwarves and everything else you’ve put me through tonight that I’m surprised that I have any hair left on my feet!”_

_Galdalf raised his eyebrow at the hobbit cuss. “Well, my dear,” he chastised gently, “If only your mother could see you now.”_

_She leveled a heavy stare at the Wizard, “I’d appreciate it if you stopped bringing up my mother. Are my brother and I only to be measured by the love you had for her? Am I nothing more than her copy to you? I am my own hobbit, thank you very much.”_

_He fixed an odd look at her. “You are so much more than a copy my dear.” He turned from her, done with the conversation. She, however, was not._

_“Well,” she said, “I have another thought for you. Riddle me this. Why are you calling me by my father’s name?”_

_Gandalf (who had been attempting to make his escape back down the hall) stopped in his tracks and turned back around._

_“I noticed, though I suspect you thought I hadn’t.”_

_“Nothing gets past you, my dear. A dwarvish custom,” Gandalf proclaimed. “Their women rarely travel, and when they do they do so under an assumed male name. Those with them do not address them any other way, and since you are to be traveling with these dwarves for quite some time I assured them you would as well. They will be calling you Bungo, or Mr. Baggins for the journey. It is safer, you see. Besides, they know who you truly are.” The odd look was still in his eyes._

_Bella rolled her eyes, certain that the Wizard was not telling her the truth. The fact of the matter was, however, that she was a Baggins of Bag End, and she would do anything to make her guests more comfortable no matter how odd their customs might be, nor indeed how unwelcome said guests may have been at the start of the evening. She watched the Grey One toddle off down the hall to his assigned room._

_When Bella heard the crooning words of the sad dwarvish song, it stirred something in her heart that she had never felt before. She knew what it meant to lose a home, and here she was still in possession of hers (until the morning, anyway). She would have agreed to go even if the reward at the end wasn’t half as so rich. And to be richer than a king at the end of her trip? She could buy Bag End back, and even if they wouldn’t sell it to her she could buy the Shire if she wanted to. They could live in relative comfort, never having to fear losing a home again._

_Bilbo came up beside her. “Need some help?”_

_“Yes, thank you. Take half of these will you?”_

_He relieved her of a portion of her burden._

_“Did he ever tell you why he was calling you by Papa’s name?” Bilbo asked, gesturing down the hall where Gandalf had vanished._

_“Some odd dwarvish traveling custom, he said. I think he’s having one over on us, but better continue as he’s already started. No need to be rude in case he’s telling the truth I suppose. Will make my life a little easier as well, no need to wander around the wilds in skirts and such.”_

_Bella wrinkled her nose at the thought, and Bilbo let out a bark of laughter. They made their way back to the sitting room to pass the items out to the company. The dwarves were speaking in low tones that became easier to understand as the two hobbits came closer._

_“I’m telling you, it is all very well for Gandalf to talk about this hobbit being fierce, but one shriek like that in a moment of excitement would be enough to wake the dragon and all his relatives, and kill the lot of us. Did you see the way the bigger one fainted at reading the contract? His brother may have very well followed him if he hadn’t been so worried. I think they’re more than a little frightened. In fact, if it hadn't been for the sign on the door, I should have been sure we had come to the wrong house. As soon as I clapped eyes on the little fellow, I had my doubts.”_

_Well, that was quite enough for Bilbo. His sister had had her opportunity to lose her temper on these confusticated dwarves, and by the Green Mother now it was his turn! It can be said that while it was obvious he longed for adventure, his behavior up until this point (fainting and the like) had been entirely Bagginsish. Well not anymore. He was quite on his dignity. The Took side had won. He suddenly felt he would go without bed and breakfast to be thought fierce. Many a time afterwards the Baggins part regretted what he did now, and he said to himself: "Bilbo, you were a fool; you walked right in and put your foot in it."_

_"Pardon me," he said, "if I have overheard words that you were saying. I don't pretend to understand what you are talking about, or your reference to burglars, but I think I am right in believing" (this is what he called being on his dignity) "that you think I am no good. I will show you. Gandalf has said he marked my door, and so he has. He chose me for this task. I will say that I have doubted myself you being in the right place. Indeed, as soon as I saw your funny faces on the doorstep, I had my doubts. But treat us as the right one. Tell me what you want done, and I will try it, if I have to walk from here to the East of East and fight the wild Wereworms in the Last Desert. I had a great-great-great-granduncle once, Bullroarer Took, and…."_

_"Yes, yes, but that was long ago," said Gloin (for that was who had been speaking), pointing a fat finger towards the pair, "I know the tale of Bullroarer Took, and I am not talking about him. I was talking about you. ‘Burglar wants a good job’, we were told, well we’ve got once with plenty of Excitement and reasonable Reward. The Wizard assured us you were the one to take. If the term burglar bothers you, I supposed you could say expert treasure-hunter instead of burglar if you like. Some of them do. It's all the same to us. I just don’t think you’re the burglar for the job! And no doubt the rest of them agree with me.”_

_Bilbo looked all around the room and noticed that none of the dwarves would meet his eyes. Feeling defeated, he hung his head slightly._

_Bella was quite ready for bed at this point. “Oh, bebother and confusticate you all! Gandalf has selected us for this quest, we have signed the contract, we are going. A Baggins of Bag End shall keep their word, and you have the word of two. Now,” she gestured to the sheets they had brought, “Divide the rooms how you like, we will see you in the morning. I for one, am going to bed. As for breakfast, we will eat whatever precious little can be found in the pantry.”_

_She dropped the sheets unceremoniously on the floor, grabbed her brother by the hand, and dragged him down into her room where they both promptly climbed into bed and fell asleep._


	7. Of Traveling Plans

Bella woke to the sounds of dishes clanging in the kitchen. She rolled over and noticed that Bilbo was still asleep. Her internal clock told her it was not yet daylight, but she figured that the troop would want to make an earlier start then what was normally considered polite. 

_That’s probably for the best, then. Less of a chance of being stopped._

Standing up, she lit the candle on the bedside table and glanced at the actual clock on the wall. It was currently a quarter past five (which was much too early for a sensible hobbit to be expected to be up, but it has been established that Bella was not a typical sensible hobbit). She caught sight of herself in the mirror on her dressing table and resisted the urge to wince. The cap was still sitting on her head, and she knew that underneath it her reddish-brown hair was horrible tangled thanks to the fact that she had forgotten to brush it before turning in. She sat down on her bench, removed the cap, grabbed her favorite comb, and began to sort through the knotted mess. 

As she worked, for the first time Bella wondered at what kind of commotion the dwarves had caused while they traveled through Hobbiton. They had no doubt not been quiet during their journey (and since we have already established the nosey nature of hobbits) she was hopeful that no one around had noticed what particular smial they had stopped at for the night. They needed to get out quietly, so that no one would try to stop them. Her, they would most likely let go without too much fuss, but Bilbo? Bilbo they would stop. Bella couldn’t be having that. She sat the comb down and threw her hair back over her shoulder as she stood up. 

She walked back over to the bed and shook Bilbo awake. He sat up, blinking blearily. “What time is it?” he asked. Bella chuckled a little. Bilbo always did hate early mornings. 

“Time to get up, silly.” 

Bilbo took one look at the clock and promptly collapsed back into the bed, pulling the covers up over his face. “I’m not silly,” he said, “I’m a Sensible Hobbit, and it is much too early for Sensible Hobbits at this time.” 

“Well brother,” she replied, “You can no longer call yourself a Sensible Hobbit. You signed a contract, and your new title is that of Company Burglar. And Company Burglars should get up with the rest of their Company, which I daresay from the sounds coming from the kitchen are already getting breakfast together.” 

The events from the night before came rushing back to the tween. 

“Dwarves in the kitchen,” he exclaimed as he sat up abruptly, “and us in here?” 

“Well, I can’t very well go out there looking like this,” his sister replied, gesturing to her hair. It was currently curling and hanging down her back. “Braid it up for me?” she asked. 

Bilbo looked at Bella with a soft expression. 

“Of course.” 

He pulled his legs and feet out from under the covers, positioned them in a ‘V’ and sat against the headboard. Bella positioned herself in front of him. His fingers dove into the luxurious mass on his sisters head and began to make quick work of it. 

“What do you want me to do?” 

“Something I can tuck under a cap and that will stay there a while.”

Bilbo nodded. “What are we going to pack?” he asked. 

Bella twitched slightly, and Bilbo huffed. “It was just a question,” he said. 

“It’s not a simple answer.” she responded. 

“What’s that supposed to mean.” 

“We’ve agreed to go, brother, but I don’t think you thought through what that would exactly mean. You didn’t think of what we would have to leave behind.” 

He looked around the room and understood what she meant. All their mathoms, their knick-knacks, their family heirlooms. He doubted they could fit the painting of Bullroarer Took into his traveling-pack, or their mother’s glory box, or their father’s favorite arm chair. They would be taking the bare minimum, only the things they needed, and only what they could carry, and much of their childhood would be left here in Bag End. 

He tied off his sister’s braid, pulled her cap back over her curls, and let out a shaky breath. His head fell back against the headboard. Bella turned quickly and took her brother’s face in her hands. 

“I’ve already thought about this. The things we value most, Papa’s chair and Mama’s box and the things we want to come back to, we can lock into the secret room in the cellar. Take the key with us, and hope that they don’t find it before we have a chance to come back. Even if it’s all gone, we can find it again when we return.” 

“But what if we don’t come back?” Bilbo asked. 

Bella shook her head. “I can’t think about that right now,” she confessed, “But in terms of packing, take two changes of clothes, a knife, a whetstone, a water skin, soap, flint, an oil slick, and anything else you think you might need. They already think we’re useless, might as well take the time to show them that they’re wrong. Papa had two coats, we can each have one. I’ll be taking two sets of your clothing, and we probably should put on a waistcoat as well in case there’s a chill in the air.” 

Bilbo eyed his sister thoughtfully, and it made her feel self conscious. 

“What?” she asked warily. 

“Just never thought I’d see you being this sensible about going on an adventure.” 

She cuffed his ear fondly. “Well, one of us has to be.” 

They soon had their bags sorted out in short order, and if Bella happened to sneak several of her mother’s favorite pieces of jewelry into an inside pocket of her father’s coat, and Bilbo took his father’s pocket watch, pipe, and pipe weed, well, no one was the wiser. They both took out bags that held their pocket money and added to it from the funds that normally bought the groceries. Bella had the sense to tuck several pocket handkerchiefs into the top of her pack before tying it closed. 

Walking into the kitchen, they were greeted by the sight of a breakfast spread on their table. Bella snatched a biscuit while Bilbo grabbed for the bacon. 

“Good morning!” Kili said cheerfully as he handed them each a cup of coffee. 

“Good morning,” Bella replied, “Think you lot could help us with something?” 

The dwarves (who were seated around the table and who had already up, packed, and ready to go as soon as they finished eating) eyed each other. 

“As I understand it, you’re employed to help me, not the other way around.” Thorin said in his deep voice. 

Bella glared at him, quite hot. The candles around the table flared up for a moment and the dwarves all jumped. Gandalf looked at the hobbits with those keen eyes of his. Bilbo laid his hand on his sister's arm and spoke comfortingly in her ear. Fili poked the candlestick next to him, and though it did not flicker or flare again he still inched it away from him. All the dwarves looked at Gandalf, who did not acknowledge them. 

“As I understand it,” Bilbo said to Thorin, “We are under your employ, but it is your task that calls us from our home. We may not come back for quite a while, if indeed we come back at all and we are simply asking that you help us lock some things away safely until we return. It’s an easy enough task, and with all of you helping it should be done in short order.” 

The anger left Bella’s eyes, and she ignored everyone in the kitchen as she left the room and made the way to her mother’s glory box. She didn’t care if anyone followed her, but as she picked it up to take down the stairs she noticed Bifur and Bofur going into the parlor to get her father’s armchair. Suppressing a smirk, she heard them coming behind her. She set the box down and reached into her pocket for the house keys. She unlocked the door, and watched as her brother directed the dwarves to the small room (which was set in the darkest corner of the cellar and when the door was shut and locked could not be noticed unless you knew it was there), and it was soon filled with their most valuable possessions. 

The dwarves stood behind her in the cellar as she locked the door and put away the key. She leaned her head against the cool wall for a moment and a tear rolled down her cheek. She could feel bilbo come up behind her, and he embraced her with his arms folding tightly around her waist. 

“Ready?” he asked her. 

She nodded. Turning, she smiled at the dwarves for the first time since their arrival. 

“Thank you for this,” she said, “These things mean more to us then all the gold in the world.” 

The dwarves of course could not understand exactly what the young hobbit meant by that (after all, the reasoned, how can things so poorly made be worth more than all the gold in the world). It was not that they thought little of the craftsmanship of hobbits or Men, rather it was simply that they didn’t think of it at all, since there is no true comparison in the quality of the craftsmanship of dwarves. 

Dwarves may be seen as cursed and forsaken since the fall of the Lonely Mountain, but the quality of the things they make will not be matched in this age or the next. In truth, a great many people treat the dwarves quite poorly in how they are paid, offering scraps for things that are worth a great deal more. Desperate as they are, however, they have no choice but to take the little they are offered. 

Even though they could not understand the thinking of hobbits, they could understand the meaning of gratitude. They bowed their heads low. 

Thorin raised his head before anyone else. “The sun will be coming up soon,” he said. “We will be getting ponies and supplies in Bree. Time to go.”

No one argued of course, and in short order (during which Bella bullied the troop into packing up the breakfast to take with them and into accepting what was left from the household funds for their coin purses “Take it, and think of it as a loan! No use in it sitting here useless when it could help us down the way. Pay us back in Erebor.”) they were all out the front door with their packs strapped securely to their backs, their weapons sheathed at the ready (for every dwarf had sharpened and cleaned his the night before in preparation), cloaks on and ready to go. 

Bella and Bilbo eached grabbed a walking stick from the doorway before Bella shut it and locked it securely. She had gone around just before leaving, locked the back door, shuttered all the windows and locked them as well. It gave her a strange sense of vindictive glee, knowing that in order for them to get into Bag End those awful Sackville-Baggins bunch would have to either break down the door, break in through way of a window, or if they were feeling particularly adventurous try going down the chimney. Though she knew it wasn’t likely, she hoped they chose the third option. She had closed the grate on the chimney and blocked it with several of the heavier chairs. Whoever tried that way would be stuck for quite some time. She tucked the keys into their pocket and followed the gaggle of dwarves currently making their way down the path. 

Even though it was nearing six-thirty by now, it was still somewhat dark and dreary outside. The moonlight lit their walk as they turned down the main road. Bella and Bilbo knew that the only other hobbits who may be up at the current hour would be the farmers, and thankfully the only two who lived close to Bag End were Farmer Maggot and Hamfast Gamgee. Hamfast’s Gaffer would most likely still be asleep (since he was getting up in years) and since the other two had been fast friends of Bungo Baggins it was not likely they would stop his children. 

Bella stopped at the crest of the hill and turned back. Her thoughts drifted back to the conversation that she, Bilbo, and Gandalf had had the night before: 

_“We can't just go running off into the blue!” Bungo exclaimed, “We are the Baggins of Bag End! You may think us odd for putting such stock in our possessions, but they only became dear to us after the loss of our parents. Our things are all we have of them, so I think we have the right to consider them important! And as for my brother, my parents entrusted me with him. I promised to take care of him. My brother, my responsibility. So I’ll thank you not to do my job.”_

_“You may be a Baggins, young hobbit, but you are also a Took.”  
The siblings were both silent. Gandalf continued on, “Did you know that your great-great-great-great uncle, Bullroarer Took was so large he could ride a real horse?” _

_Bella rolled her eyes, “Yes Gandlaf, every faunt in the Shire knows the tale of Bullroarer Took. We were all told that such things happen to hobbits who dare go on adventures. No sensible hobbit would ever get on a horse.”_

_“Well, he could, and did!” Gandalf exclaimed, “In the Battle of Green Fields, he charged the goblin ranks. He swung his club so hard, it knocked the Goblin King's head clean off, and it sailed a hundred yards through the air and went down a rabbit hole. And thus the battle was won, and the game of golf invented at the same time.”_

_“I do believe you made that up.” Bilbo said._

_Gandalf shrugged sheepishly, “Well, all good stories deserve embellishment. You'll have a tale or two to tell of your own when you come back.”_

_“ And can you promise that we will come back?” Bella demanded._

_“No.” Gandalf sighed quietly, “But if you do, you will not be the same.”_

_Bella nodded, having had her question answered, “That's what I thought. I'm sorry, Gandalf, but we can't sign this. You've got the wrong hobbits.”_

_Bilbo made to open his mouth, but shut it swiftly when he caught sight of his sister’s expression. Gandalf sighed again, more heavily this time. “Very well.”_

_Bella could hear a voice in the hall, and perked her ears up to listen. “It appears we have lost our burglar.” Balin sighed. She shook her head resignedly. **Indeed you have,** she thought. _

She came back to the present when she heard someone calling to her. 

“Come on Mr. Boggins,” Kili was saying. Bella stifled a chuckle. “You to, Mr. Boggins the Younger,” Fili added, addressing Bilbo. The hobbit lad grinned. 

The two siblings exchanged an amused look, and glanced once more back at their home. They drank in the sight of Bag End lit by moonlight. It was magnificent. Bilbo took Bella by the hand. “Together.” he said quietly, and they walked down the path without another glance back. And if their eyes were damp, well, that was their business.


	8. Of Journeying

They were lost. 

They hadn’t even been walking for half a day, and they were decidedly lost. Thorin was in the lead, and Gandalf was in the rear with the hobbits beside him. The siblings kept exchanging glances with each other. Every time they had tried to speak up, someone had spoken over them, discussing various things that were to be handled once they reached Bree. 

Bree, you see, was to the east of Hobbiton. The Shire may not be as large as Rohan and Gondor or as vast as the Woodland Realms of the Elves, but it was a decent enough size. (Indeed, hobbits would say that the Shire was simply the decent enough size to house the hobbits and all their lands, and needed to be no bigger or smaller than what it was.) The problem, however, lay in the secrets of hobbits. 

Hobbits were magical creatures, and this was not widely known. They did not know from whence came their magic, only that the knowledge of it had been passed down since the Wandering Days before the Shire became the Shire. At one point, millennia ago, hobbits had been vagabonds, gypsies, travelers. In those days, a great many hobbits used their magic for protection, and a great many hobbits were Gifted to that effect. Once they settled in the Shire, however, there no longer was a need for protection magic, not after they wove spells of concealment and confusion into the ground. Anyone not a hobbit who traveled through the Shire with unknown intent would never be able to find their destination, and would be forced to wander until they finally stepped outside of the bounds of the magic. It had served to keep the Shire peaceful and quiet for many years (the Fell Winter notwithstanding). 

The dwarves, of course, had no ill intent, but the magic was so old and so powerful that by now it no doubt had some effect on them. It appeared to be impacting Thorin the most, evidenced by the fact that he had gotten lost in the first place and was getting them lost now. It worried Bilbo slightly, thinking that the leader of their Company was so susceptible to magical influence. 

Bella largely suspected that the rune Gandlaf had carved into the door of Bag End was magical, for there was no other way that a troop of doors could have found their way to the Baggins family home without magical assistance. The spells had been laid into the ground they walked on for hundreds of years, and it had served to keep the Shire peaceful and quiet for many years (the Fell Winter notwithstanding). It sounded like something Gandalf would do, sacrificing the peace in the shire by carving a magical beacon that led outsiders straight into the heart of their land. 

Bella looked around, and realized that they were well on their way through The Hill. 

“Excuse me,” she said. The dwarf directly in front of her, which was the youngest of the Ri siblings, turned to her and blushed. “But where are we going?”   
“Thorin means to make for Bree,” the young dwarf replied, “He means for us to get supplies and ponies there.” 

The thought of ponies troubled the hobbit, but not as much as their current destination. 

“Bree-land can be found to the East, through the Bywater, beyond Frogmorton and Budgeford,” she explained, “So maybe someone should tell him that we are currently walking North over The Hill.” 

Ahead of them, Gloin’s eyes widened. “Hey Thorin,” he shouted, “The little halfling says we’re going in the wrong direction!” 

Thorin scoffed, “We’re going in the right direction.” he said firmly. 

“Where are we then?” Bilbo asked cheekily, “Because we’re nowhere near Bree and like as not to miss the last ferry crossing if we won’t turn now.” 

“What are you on about?” Balin demanded. 

The entire group had stopped by now, and more than one dwarf was looking at them crossly. 

“We’re saying that Bree is East of Hobbiton but Master Oakenshield is carrying us North over The Hill and into the Bindbole Wood.” 

The dwarves all looked around in confusion. Nothing can really be said about the dwarves having a good sense of direction, with the exception of underground in the mines. Any dwarf worth his salt would know exactly where he stood underground, but above ground was an entirely different story. As it was, you would think that they would be able to at least keep to the compass, but again, hobbit magic hundreds of years old would fool even the most directional dwarf. 

“Well then,” Thoring said dangerously, “If you are so better suited to carrying us out of this cursed maze of holes, then do it.” He smirked at the end of his sentence, and Bella realized that he thought they would get the group even more lost. She shared a glance with her brother, turned back to Thorin, and shrugged her shoulders. 

“As you wish, sir.” she said. Grabbing her walking-stick more firmly in hand, she shouldered past all of the angry dwarves to take the spot and the front of the line with Bilbo directly behind her. 

They eyed the tree line for a moment. 

“Will we have to double back?” Bilbo asked. 

Bella shook her head, “No, if we do we will miss the last crossing of the ferry, and you and I both know that we can’t afford to.” 

She didn’t speak of what might happen if they were caught. 

Bilbo nodded, then pointed to a small break in the trees about two miles from where they stood. “That’s the corner of the river, where the Bywater meets the Water.” He told the Company, “It’s not deep, nor very wide. Might come up to our knees at the deepest point. We can cross over there, and since it’s not yet noon if we hurry we can make it to the ferry in time.” 

Bella agreed with her brother, and motioned the dwarves forward. She began the trek off the path, making for the break in the treeline that Bilbo had spotted. She didn’t have to look back to see if the group was following her, with as much noise as they were making she could hear them coming from a mile away. She took an apple out of her pocket and bit into it several times, consuming half before offering it to Bilbo. He took it, gladly (it was now about time for second breakfast) and made quick work of the remaining half. Privately, Bella wondered exactly how many meals they would miss in the coming days.

While she wasn’t as plump as she would like to be for a hobbit (the Fell Winter the year before had caused a great many hobbits to go hungry in spite of their magic), she wasn’t exactly thin as a rail either. She and Bilbo lived comfortably, and to live comfortably in Hobbiton meant eating the proper amount of Hobbit meals. But now they were traveling, and they would be for a very long time, and Bella did not know if they would return even if they somehow managed to survive the perilous journey. 

Bella thought on all these things for a good long while, only acknowledging the presence of the others with her when Bilbo reached over to take her hand. In short order (although it was really several hours later) they reached the edge of the river just in time to catch the last ferry. As it was, the boat had already left the dock and they had to wade out several feet in order to board. Bella, being the shortest of the bunch had the water come nearly to her waist. To her great annoyance, Gandalf barely got his knees wet. 

_Curse the Men and their unnatural tallness. Why would anyone want to be that height?_

The poor unfortunate hobbits running the ferry across the brandywine had the scare of their life when a pack of terrifying dwarves led by an unnaturally tall man in a dressing gown and two young hobbits to boot began splashing through the water hollering for them to throw the anchor. They were so scared, in fact, that they did not throw the anchor over the side, and the group was forced to clamour onto the large raft while it was floating away from them. Gandalf boarding nearly threw the rest of them off, and _ **good heaven was that Bungo Baggin’s children?**_

The ferry hobbits attempted to speak to them, but Bella and Bilbo staunchly ignored them. _ **Well, then,**_ the two ferry hobbits thought, _ **at least we will have something to tell Lobelia over tea tomorrow.**_

Bella despaired slightly. She knew it was highly unlikely that they wouldn’t get caught, but she had hoped that they would at least be across the river before it happened. As it was, there was nothing for it. She would just have to hope that they would be able to make it out of Bree before someone came running after them. 

Bilbo still had hold of her hand all this while later, and sensing his sisters thoughts he gave it a squeeze. He knew that they didn’t belong in Hobbiton anymore, just as he knew that right now they didn’t truly belong with the dwarves either. He hoped with time that that would change, but for now it was just the two of them. Gandalf couldn’t be counted either. _He was here for his own reasons,_ Bilbo knew, _even if I don’t know what those reasons are yet._

Bilbo and Bella settled back against the side of the ferry and observed the dwarves. They had to restrain their laughter when they noticed all the others looking at their sopping wet boots in disgust. They, after all, were Sensible Hobbits, and they had the feet of Sensible Hobbits, and their feet were already beginning to dry in the setting sun. 

Bofur eyed the hobbits. 

“Maybe we should have taken our boots off before we ran through the river,” he said. 

Thorin shook his head. “And carry them along with everything else?” 

“Well,” Kili cut in, “I think the Boggins Burglars had the right idea of it. At least their nubs are dry.” 

At the word burglar, the ferry hobbits eyed the Baggins siblings in complete horror before putting their heads together and whispering furiously in heated tones. Bella restrained a groan. Well, she thought, there went what little reputation I had left. 

Bella, of course, would now be considered a fallen thing, and in the eyes of the Hobbits of the Shire, that was Very Not Good. She would never be able to make a respectable match, and in all honesty, Bella had already resigned herself to this thought long ago. However, before it had been by her own choice to remain unmarried. Who would take care of her parents? Of Bilbo? Of Bag End? 

No, the Bella of yesterday had been a spinster by choice. She was, after all, the Mad Baggins. Though it really wasn’t the thing, most hobbits at least became engaged in their late tweens. Most hobbit lasses (since they were more often than not the younger party) married their hobbit lads the day after they turned of age. (Of course, it had to be a separate day. To marry the day before or the day of was Not Done, but to marry the day after gave the town an excuse to throw another party.) This practice meant that usually by the age of thirty (for hobbit courting and engagement could be a lengthy process involving a great deal of food) a good, Sensible Hobbit lass had already found for herself a Sensible Hobbit lad to settle down with and make more Sensible Respectable Hobbits together. 

Bella had done her share of running around, and indeed had shared the odd kiss behind Farmer Maggot’s main barn (and though Hamfast Gamgee was the son of her father’s gardener, and although he now found his Other Half in Bell Goodchild and they were well on their way to be married just as soon as Bell came of age, Belladonna Baggins the Second knew that Bell had a lot to look forward to in her marriage to Hamfast.)

Up until the night before, Belladonna Baggins the Second was quite content being the Mad Baggins with no Sensible Hobbit lad to her name, and no wish for one. But that had been by her own choice, and though she did not yet regret running off with a pack of dwarves and a Wizard she was beginning to realize just what she had done to the Baggins name in Hobbiton. While she was not mournful at losing her own reputation (after all, she didn’t really have much to lose even if the thought of being called a harlot or a hussy annoyed her. Those were two of Lobelia’s favorite words to use in relation to her.) she was a little heartsick at the thought that they might speak ill of how her father and her mother raised her. 

“But what is making the boat go?” she heard Ori asking. 

Shaking her head to pull herself up out of her deep train of thought, she looked up to see what she thought was the youngest and the smallest dwarf approaching the two ferry hobbits, who had moved themselves to the front of the ferry and had their arms outstretched and their eyes closed. 

She recognized the site of spellwork, and dove for Ori before he could disturb the casters. 

“Don’t!” she exclaimed, yanking him back by the arm. He stumbled, and turned a startled look towards her, and she opened her mouth to continue. 

She was unable to, however, for suddenly there was a knife resting on her neck. Her eyes traveled across the arm of the dwarf that held it to the angry eyes of Nori. 

“Get your hands off my brother.” he said in a low, deadly voice. 

“Now see here,” Gandalf cried, “there’s no need for that?” 

Bella glanced around to see all of the dwarves glaring at her with weapons in their hands. 

“I had to stop him,” she said by way of explanation. 

“Why would you feel the need to lay a violent hand on another member of my Company?” Thorin demanded. 

“Well, maybe we don’t feel like taking an unneeded swim.” Bilbo said crossly. “You shouldn’t disturb them when they’re steering, you might break their concentration and cause the whole ferry to flip.” 

Nori let go of Bella and glared at Bilbo, “What are you on about?” 

Bella pointed to the ferry hobbits. “They’re steering the ferry.” 

“But they don’t have any oars,” said Balin confusedly. 

Bella and Bilbo exchanged a glance. Outsiders rarely came into the Shire, and those that did often didn’t ask questions about the odd goings on that took place in the home of the hobbits. This was a new thing for them, and Bella flicked her eyebrow up questioningly. Bilbo nodded, and she sighed. There was nothing for it. They would be traveling with these dwarves for the Green Mother only knew how long. They would find out sooner or later, and it appeared that it was happening spooner rather than later. 

“It’s spellwork. They’re steering the ferry across the way with their magic. It’s quicker than waiting for the right type of current to take you across. If you break their concentration by startling either one of them, their hold on the magic will break, and we will most likely capsize. Hobbits don't swim, and you will most likely be weighed down. I’d rather not drown today, and our quest be over before it begins.” 

The dwarves were all gaping at him. 

“Magic?” Balin squeaked.   
In an answer, Bella reached into her pocket for an apple core that she had been munching on before they had reached the ferry. She dug a seed out of it and tossed it to the side. Holding out her hand with the seed placed in the center of her palm, she twitched her fingers slightly and concentrated. 

“Tyfu,” she whispered in Hobbitish, pouring all of her want into the word. 

The dwarves looked on in amazement and with a slight twinge of fear in their eyes as her palm glowed slightly from within. The seed smoked for a moment, before it cracked and a sprout pushed its way to the surface. Bella continued to concentrate, and did not release the spell until the seed transformed into a small plant large enough to fit in her hand. She let out a breath, feeling a little tired from the effort she had put into the spell. 

“Witchcraft,” Oin breathed. 

“No,” Bella admonished, “Magic.” 

“We’re not witches, we’re hobbits.” Bilbo added. 

Gandalf (who was more knowledgeable than most about hobbits) coughed, breaking the trance. 

“See,” he said, “I told you it was the right thing to do, bringing them along.” 

“How did you do that,” Ori asked eagerly. 

Bella shrugged. “How do you grow beards?” she asked rhetorically, “It’s just a part of us.” 

The ferry bumped against the other side of the river, having reached its destination. The ferry hobbits opened their eyes and lowered their arms. Nothing else was mentioned about magic for the time being. 

Bella and Bilbo thanked them for the ride (for it would be impolite not to) and stepped off the barge. They waited for the rest of the dwarves had clambered off, and then they were walking again, drawing ever nearer to Bree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rather like to think of Hobbitish as Welsh, and any hobbitish words will be translated at the end of the chapter. I of course am not an expert, but I will do my best to be as accurate as possible. 
> 
> Tyfu: Grow


	9. of Aggravated Wizards

They camped outside Bree that night. They hadn’t intended to camp outside of Bree, but the keepers at the gates had several issues with dwarves it appeared, and would not let them in. They spent all of the next day arguing with the traders in Bree, who were attempting to charge them at least three times as much as they would have charged non-dwarves. Gandalf had helpfully disappeared when they entered the gates, saying that he would meet them on the other side once their business was finished. Bella and Bilbo kept exchanging helpless glances as the dwarves were charged a whole gold piece for only three penny loaves, but every time they attempted to speak up they were hushed by the dwarves. Bella spoke in hushed tones to Bilbo, who promptly bounded off to the seed-mill to buy several packs of vegetables and fruit seeds. Thankfully, it was spring and there would be no issue finding any.

While Bilbo was gone, Bella observed as the dwarves staunchly took the abuse they were offered, and was shocked to appear that some seemed grateful for it. 

“They could have charged more,” Balin observed, “Best pay what’s asked for and be done with it.” 

She did not interfere, not once. And if she turned her head when she saw Nori sneaking extra bundles of dried meat into his and Ori’s pack, no one was the wiser. Witnessing how others treated the dwarves suddenly made her realize why they were all so grumpy much of the time. 

She finally put her foot down when the hostler tried to charge an entire five gold pieces for a nag of a donkey that looked as if it would die the next day. 

“You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Barney Butterbur!” 

The man looked down at the young hobbit currently planting herself down by his feet. 

“Well if it isn’t the oldest Baggins,” he exclaimed, “Don’t tell me these vagabonds belong to you, child.” 

“Call me a child again, and see how long it takes to end up on your rear, sir,” she threatened, “I’m going traveling since my parents are dead. These dwarves are going the same direction, and offered to be my escort. But they can’t very well be my escort if they can’t afford horses, now can they?” 

The dwarves looked on in astonishment as Bella and Butterbur bartered. Bilbo had come back by this time, and planted himself on the wall, leaning back comfortably. He tossed an apple to several dwarves who all eyed them cautiously. 

“Are they safe to eat? Kili asked. 

Bilbo shrugged, “That’s up to you. We like them well enough.” 

Fili bit his slowly, and his face shone with excitement, “Why, that’s the best apple I’ve ever tasted!” he cried. 

Bilbo grinned and turned back to observe his sister. 

“I’ll give thirty gold pieces for a pony each of us and saddlebags to boot.” 

“You’re robbing me, child.” 

“Robbing, hah! No more than you tried to moments ago. Where are you from that you think you can treat paying customers that way?” 

“Now look here,” he said angrily, “I’ll not be having cursed gold in my pockets.” 

“But it’s not cursed gold, it’s my gold that I paid them to take me to the elves!” Bella shouted. “Now take it, be grateful, and be done.” 

The hostler looked down in shame. “Well then, pay up and be gone. If you’re not out of here by nightfall, I’ll be calling the Bounders.” 

“The sooner you take this,” Bella shoved her coin purse into his hands, “The sooner we’re gone.” 

He waved them off and stomped back towards the in. Bella smirked in satisfaction. 

“Go pick out some ponies, sirs.” 

Bilbo grinned, and the dwarves all made their way into the pony yard, each picking out their own mount. And if Balin put extra packs on the nag they were originally offered, Bella pretended not to notice. A hand was laid on his arm, and she jumped from the weight and the heat of it. 

“You didn’t need to do that,” Thorin said gruffly. 

“Yes I did. I don’t like the way he treated you.”

“It’s no different from how anyone treats us, even some of our own kind.” 

Bella looked at the King-In-Exile very seriously. “Just because they all do it doesn't make it right.” 

She left the dumbfounded king to stare after her as she went to pick out her pony. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bella and Bilbo ignored the stares they received as they rode out of Bree. They might not be able to ride well, but they knew enough to hold onto the horse and follow behind the dwarves. Just as they crested the hill beyond Bree Gandalf approached them with his own horse. He nodded approvingly at the group as he took in the ponies and the refilled supplies. 

They travelled on, and though Bilbo stopped the whole group for a brief instant because he had forgotten his pocket-handkerchief (really, he chose the most inopportune moments to begin acting like a proper Baggins hobbit sometimes), they quickly left the town behind them. 

“Oi!” Oin suddenly exclaimed, shocking the group with his end to the silence, “Nori, pay up you scamp!”

Bella and Bilbo watched as the dwarf in question took several coin purses from his brother and from Gloin and threw them down the line to Oin, who turned and tossed two of them to Kili and Fili. The brothers accepted the funds with undisguised glee. Bilbo glanced up at the Wizard.

“What’s that about Gandalf?” 

“Oooh,” the Wizard humphed, “They all took wagers as to whether or not you’d actually come along the other night in Bag End. Most of them thought you wouldn’t, and bet accordingly.”

“And what did you think, you doddering old hat?” Bella challenged. She was silenced a moment later when the biggest coin purse of all was tossed to the Man. 

“Oh,” he crowed, “I never doubted you for a second.” 

Bella thought hard for a minute, eying all of the purses that had just changed hands. “You bet on us with our own money that we gave you?!” 

“What else had we to bet with,” Fili said with a cheeky grin. 

Bella snorted. 

“Well, as long as it’s getting some use I supposed.”

After this initial first day of excitement, they spent the next several days traveling in relative quiet. As the sun went down each night they made camp, and Kili more often than not would disappear for at least half an hour and come back to the fire with some sort of small animal that would promptly be tossed into the stew pot. The hobbits, for their part, spent each night tending to the ponies. The first night they had attempted to spout some seeds into carrots and potatoes to add to the stew pot, but it made the dwarves very uncomfortable so they no longer offered. The hobbits weren’t too terribly upset, they understood that the unknown thing that was their magic made the dwarves a little leary. 

The days became somewhat repetitive, and Bella and Bilbo both took great comfort in it. They liked going from day to day knowing what to expect, which for them meant very little. They got up, ate, traveled, got down, ate, slept and repeated. 

Then the rain started. 

Bella and Bilbo it soon appeared were the only two who had enough sense to pack oil slicks. The result of this preparedness was that they were the only two in the group that were dry and comfortable. The dwarves soon became wet to the bone (and though Bella couldn’t believe that it was possible), and they were more miserable and grumpy than ever. 

“Gandalf, can't you do something about his deluge?” Gloin called out from the middle of the pack as they rode on through the deluge. Gandalf gave him a superior look down the side of his nose. 

“It is raining, Master Dwarf, and it will continue to rain until the rain is done. If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another wizard.”

Bilbo perked up at that statement. He eyed Gandalf up and down from his place beside the Wizard, and Gandalf transferred his gaze to the young hobbit. “Yes?” 

“Are there any?”

“What?” asked the Wizard. 

“Other wizards?” Bella added for clarification. In front of them all the dwarves tried (and failed) to make it appear as if they were uninterested in the conversation taking place at the end of the line.

 _Really, they’re worse than nosey hobbit faunts,_ Bella thought, _some of my cousins could probably take lessons._

“There are five of us,” Gandalf was saying, “The greatest of our order is Saruman the White. Then there are the two blue wizards.” He paused before continuing quietly, “You know, I've quite forgotten their names.” 

“And who is the fifth?” Bilbo continued to press. 

“Well, that would be Radagast the Brown.” 

A thoughtful look crossed over Bilbo’s face, “Is he a great wizard….” he trailed off, unable to continue. Gandalf cocked an eyebrow at the tween. 

“Or is he more like you?” Bella added, picking up on what her brother didn’t want to say. 

Gandalf puffed up (Bilbo privately thought that he was getting on his dignity) “I think he is a very great wizard in his own way. He's a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals to others.” 

“Any matter,” tutted Dori, “There’s nothing to be done about this weather, I suppose. And I'm sure the rain has got into the dry clothes and into the foodbags. What did we bring a Wizard for if we have no way to use him?” 

Gandalf puffed up even more, “I’ll have you know, Master Dwarf,” he said indignantly, “That I’m here for no one's use but my own, thank you very much. Here,” he gestured to the hobbits, “You’ve two hobbits and have not tried to make use of them.” 

“You mean they can stop the rain?” Gloin demanded. 

Bella rolled her eyes. 

“No,” Bilbo scolded, “But we can certainly dry you off, you just never asked." 

“Well, it’s not natural, that is.” Dori stuttered, quite unsure. 

Bella looked at him as best she could through the downpour. “But it’s natural enough to us.” 

“Just the same, no thank you.” 

The hobbits shrugged. “As you wish.” 

The rain thankfully ended by the time they made camp for the night, but the wood was too wet to light. Bilbo watched the dwarves fuss with it for several long minutes before he gave a huff of impatience and pushed Bofur out of the way. He ignored the shocked noise the dwarves made and laid his hand above the wood. 

_“Sych_ ,” he whispered, the magic took hold of him and his hand glowed briefly. The dwarves all looked on in astonishment as the water was pulled out of the wood and floated up to form a sphere just below Bilbo’s palm. Bella looked on with pride as Bilbo made a gesture and the sphere flew behind him to splash the back of Gandalf’s head. There was complete silence for a moment as the Wizard reached up to pull his now even more soaked hat off of his head. 

Kili let out a bark of laughter, and all the rest soon followed. Bella wouldn't swear to it, but she thought she saw Thorin even let a small smirk grace his face for an instant. 

“It may be unnatural to you,” she said goodnaturedly, “But magic has its uses.” 

She noticed for the first time that the location that Thorin selected for the night was odd, in that there was a newer ruin sitting at the end of the clearing. Gandalf had stomped over there after being hit by the water-ball, and was now eying the destroyed structure. He turned back and hastily made his way to the Company. 

“I think it would be wiser to move on,” Gandalf shouted suddenly, “We could make for the Hidden Valley.” 

Bella watched as Thorin’s expression went from neutral to Very Not Good. 

“I have told you already,” Thorin said dangerously, “We will not go near that place.” 

The dwarves were again trying to eavesdrop without being obvious, and doing a poor job of it, only this time Bella and Bilbo joined in. 

“Why not? The elves could help us. We could get food, rest, advice-” 

“I do not need their advice.” 

“We have a map we cannot read; Lord Elrond will help us.” 

The dwarves all winced, and Bella knew that what had been said was something that should not have been spoken. 

“Help?” Thorin’s voice was low and quiet, and Bella thought she would have preferred him to shout with the rage running through his words, “A dragon attacks Erebor, what help came from the elves?” 

Gandalf was sensible enough to take a step back as the dwarf King stalked towards him. 

“Orcs **plunder** Moria, **desecrate** our sacred halls, and the elves **looked** on and did **nothing**. You ask me to seek out the very people who betrayed my grandfather and betrayed my father?” 

“You are neither of them. And besides, it was not Lord Elrond who abandoned you at Erebor.” Gandalf said (Bilbo quietly thought it sounded like he was speaking to a naughty child), “That blame lies with King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm. I did not give you that map and key for you to hold onto the past.” 

_Oh dear. That was most definitely Very Not Good._

“I did not know they were yours to keep.” Thorin snapped. 

Gandalf scowled at Thorin and stomped away. He passed the rest of the company and made his way to his horse. Bilbo looked at him in confusion. 

“Everything all right? Gandalf, where are you going?” 

“To seek the company of the only one around here who's got any sense.” Came the reply. 

“And who's that?” 

“Myself, Mr. Baggins! I've had enough of dwarves for one day.” 

Thorin stepped away from the farmhouse, “Come on, then, we're hungry.” 

Balin was standing next to Bilbo, and the hobbit leaned in to speak to the dwarf, “Is he coming back?” 

Balin shrugged and turned back to the fire. 

They dwarves were so cheered at the thought of having a hot supper after such a cold and wet day that they paid no attention to the leaving of the Wizard and even let Bella near the stew-pot. Indeed, Bilbo seemed to be the only one concerned. What the Wizard did was neither here nor there for Bella. Once Bofur (Kili and Fili were taking a turn with the ponies) brought a rabbit in for their supper, the rest was handled in short order, and a feast was had that night. 

Bofur and Bombur began to fill the bowls. Bofur tried to hand two to Bilbo, but the young hobbit was preoccupied with his thoughts. 

“He’s been a long time,” the tween said. 

“Who?” Bofur asked impatiently. 

“Gandalf,” Bilbo replied. 

“He's a wizard,” said Dwalin carelessly, “he does as he chooses." 

Bofur finally got Bilbo to take hold of the bowls of stew. “Here, do us a favor: take these to the lads.” 

Bilbo looked at his sister, who shrugged her shoulders to give her consent. She was still working on her own stew, and Bilbo’s bowl sat next to her waiting for him to return. She watched her brother as he made his way to the edge of the clearing. They hadn’t hobbled the ponies next to them on this night because they seemed to be scared of the farmhouse and everytime they were brought near it they shied away. Kili and Fili had moved them into the wood until they stopped acting funny. 

Bella let her brother go, and regretted it the second Fili came running into the clearing screaming about Bilbo and Trolls. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sych=dry


	10. An Interlude: An Excerpt from the Journal of Ori, son of Kori, Lore Keeper of the Quest of Erebor

An interview on the subject of Halfing (Bu: Now, Ori, we’re hobbits, not Halfings), excuse me, hobbit magic. Conducted by Ori, son of Kori, Member of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield, apprentice scribe to Balin, son of Fundin, on an unknown day in the year of the T.A. 2941. 

Ori: For the official record, I have been tasked with the recording of this Quest for Erebor, and once done it will be considered my submission for Mastery of my Craft to the Scribe’s Guild in the Blue Mountains. Seen in this interview will be the Burglars of the Company, Mr. Bungo Baggins and Mr. Bilbo Baggins. 

Bungo (Bu): Well, that’s an awful big task, sir, if you don’t mind me saying. 

Bilbo (Bi): Indeed. 

Ori: I am proud to say that I am both the youngest member of this Company and the youngest Apprentice Scribe to ever submit for a Mastery. Now, they still have the power to deny it to me and tell me to continue my Apprenticeship, but it is my hope that this Quest will be so widely known that they will be unable to do so. 

But, on with it then, can you explain more about hobbit magic, for the official record of course?

Bu: Does this mean that what we say is going on public record? 

Ori: Yes, all dwarves will be made known of our journey to the mountain. 

Bi: So everything we talk about here will be published? 

Ori: In the official record, yes.

Bu: I don’t know if we should speak of this then, for our Magic is not widely known if it is known at all beyond the bounds of present company, and it is a part of what keeps us safe. 

Bi: Well, now, I don’t see the harm in telling him a little of the more common stuff. 

Bu: You wouldn’t. 

Bi: What true harm could it do? There’s nothing to be used against us!

Bu: Fine! But on your head be it, I will have no part in this. 

**Let it be noted that Bungo Baggins has left the interview.**

Bi: Well, I’ll be paying for that later. 

Ori: If it goes against your culture, and if you do not want to continue, we can stop here. 

Bi: No, no. I’m already in trouble, might as well do the thing that I’m in trouble for. What do you wish to know? 

Ori: When you say you have magic, what do you mean by that? 

Bi: Starting off difficult are we? Well, I’m not really sure how to explain that. 

Ori: Try, please. 

Bi: Well, I mean I don’t really know how to explain it to someone who’s not a hobbit, you see. For us, it’s not really something that you have, it’s just something that you are, something that’s a part of you. 

Ori: And what do you mean by that? 

Bi: For us, magic and the use of it are just as common as breathing. When we’re little, it keeps us warm like a blanket, we don’t often fall over, it steadies us as we learn to walk. Little hurts and bruises fade away within hours. As we grow older, we can manage more as our parents teach us. 

Ori: So it’s something that you learn? 

Bi: No, no, don’t mistake me. It’s not something that we learn, it’s something that we are. Magic is in us, it’s a part of us, and it’s as natural for us as it is to breathe. With a little guidance and self discovery we can channel that power into what we need it to do. 

Ori: Elaborate please. 

Bi: If you’re across the room, and there’s an unlit candle, and it’s getting dark, you get up to light it. We just light it, we don’t have to get up and don’t ask me how to explain it because I’m not really sure. 

Our Green mother gave us these Gifts because we are neither warriors nor do we have the power to flee quickly from danger. We protect ourselves, we hide, and we live to eat another day. She blessed us each with a particular affinity for a specific task. My mother, for example, could grow. Her knowledge of plants was unmatched, and the magic and care that she poured into her fields made his the more prosperous harvests, the better tasting fruit, vegetables, and tobacco that can be found anywhere. 

There was one time one of the Chubb boys fell out of the Party Tree (some miscreant Brandybuck had dared him to climb to the very top branch) and Father had his mangled leg fixed in a day. I think I’m taking after him, I’ve never had a cut last more than an hour on me and I fixed Farmer Maggot’s son when he nearly lost his hand to an axe. It didn’t even take that much effort. 

Ori: So effort is needed, then? 

Bi: Yes and no. Some things come to us easy, almost like breathing. I’ve never had a cup of cold tea, for example. Even if it’s sat a while once I pick it up it’s warm again. Others are a bit bigger, you see, like drying the wood. It takes some focus.

Ori: And the words? Do they have meaning? 

Bi: Again, yes and no. They mean something, obviously, but the truth of it is that the words aren’t really magical. It’s more of a focus, you see, something to concentrate on and help us better understand what we want from the magic. I suppose you could say it’s a guide.

Ori: Could you use your magic to kill the dragon?

Bi: OH, HEAVENS NO. No hobbit would have that kind of power, nor would they want to. We aren’t for killing, us hobbits. Besides, the most any of us could probably do would probably just irritate him like a needle does when it pokes your finger. But we are meant to tend to the earth and to ourselves. Nothing more. No one has ever really tried to do more, except perhaps Bullroarer Took. 

Ori: Well, then, I suppose. 

Bi: We can keep you dry, we can keep you fed, but we won’t be killing nothing. It’s not something hobbits do. We are comfortable folk content with comfortable lives. 

Ori: Then why did you join us if you were content. 

Bi: Well now, that’s a story for another day. 

Or: As you like. 

END OF INTERVIEW


	11. Of Troublesome Trolls

Bilbo quietly thought that he should have stayed home. He understood of course, what leaving might mean for him and Bell, but he had no idea that it would mean him doing something like this. Here he was, a slightly respectable hobbit, and he was doing very not respectable things. 

After all, what sort of a hobbit would sneak up on a pack of trolls with the intent to steal ponies back? 

_Curse those dratted dwarves._

If only someone else had been volunteered to bring them their supper. 

As it was, Bilbo had approached the young pair with a cheerful and unsuspecting grin. He paused when he noticed how the two of them were staring at each other. They wore expressions of contemplation, a little horror and dread. Just beyond them through the tree line Bilbo noticed several uprooted trees, and wondered what had been strong enough to knock them over. 

Food, of course, was the most important thing at the moment. It wouldn’t do to have hungry dwarves when he had the food hot and waiting for them.

Still, it would be impolite not to ask what worried them, and Bilbo was nothing if not polite. 

“What's the matter?”

Kili and Fili both jumped. 

“Oi, give us some warning next time,” Fili snapped before turning back to the ponies. It looked like he was counting. 

Bilbo turned to Kili. “What’s the matter?” he repeated. 

“Well,” Kili replied, “We're supposed to be looking after the ponies. FILI Only, we've encountered a slight problem. We had seventeen…..” 

“Now there's fifteen.” Fili finished with a grimace.

Bilbo counted for himself, and the dwarf was right. There were only fourteen ponies hobbled to the ground or tied to nearby trees. He knelt down and placed the bowls on the ground. 

“Daisy and Bungo are missing.”

“Well, that's not good.” said Bilbo, “That is not good at all. Shouldn't we tell Thorin?”

Kili and Fili both winced and shook their heads. The three of them all moved closer to the downed trees, looking at them closely. A sly look came over Kili’s face and he let a small grin rise to the surface. Leaning over, he whispered something in Fili’s ear that was too low for even hobbit ears to hear. Fili’s expression soon matched Kili’s, and he reached over to tap Bilbo on the shoulder. 

“Yes?” Bilbo asked, “What is it?”

“No, let's not worry Uncle right this moment. As our official burglar, we thought that you might like to look into it.” 

Bilbo shrugged at the thought and began to observe the wreckage around them with more effort then he had put in the moment before. “Well, something big uprooted these trees.” 

“That was our thinking as well.” Fili added, motioning for the hobbit to continue. 

“Something very big and possibly quite dangerous.” 

They all looked around again, and something to the right caught Fili’s eye. He crouched down low and squinted. His eyes widened, and the golden-haired dwarf gestured to his brother and to Bilbo, and they crouched down beside him. He pointed and they followed his finger to a flash glinting in the distance. “Hey, there's a light. Over there. Stay down.” 

He began to move forward slowly and quietly to take cover behind a log. The three of them looked beyond the trees and saw a little clearing where the light was coming from. It turned out to be a campfire, and even from nearly forty feet away the dwarves and the hobbit could hear loud and harsh laughter coming from around it. 

“What is it?” Bilbo whispered, his eyes darting back and forth between the brothers. 

Fili and Kili exchanged a worried glance. “Trolls.” Kili hissed. The two brothers darted forward to a set of trees closer to the camp, with Bilbo following closely behind.

They could hear a thunderous noise coming up suddenly from their left, and dashed behind the trees just in time. They pressed themselves closely against the bark, and Bilbo did his best to think very small thoughts. He watched in horror as a mountainous, horrendous looking creature stomped past not even five feet from them. The grotesque thing was all bent out of what could be considered a natural looking shape, and he had a horrific grin stretched over disgusting teeth. Under each arm he carried a pony, and he was making his way around the fire to a pen. 

The poor ponies were being thrown around without a care, and even from the distance between them the three could see the fear in their eyes.

“Oi! He's got Myrtle and Minty!” Kili exclaimed as quietly as he could. 

“I think they're going to eat them,” Fili added hurriedly. 

“Well, then we have to do something.” Bilbo hissed back. 

He watched as the two brothers exchanged a cheeky grin, which they then turned on him. He couldn’t really explain why, but the sight of it was making him nervous and somewhat sick to his stomach. The dwarves nodded at him swiftly, never losing the expression on their faces. Kili leaped up suddenly and yanked Bilbo up, turning him to face the fire.

“Yes, you should. Mountain trolls are slow and stupid, and you're so small.”

“Me? Me?! No, no, no!” He was starting to feel like he had in Bag End right after he read the contract. 

“It's perfectly safe;” Fili consoled, “we'll be right behind you.” He stepped behind Bilbo and gave him a tiny shove forward. When the hobbit didn’t move, he gave another push.

“Look, if you run into trouble, hoot twice like a barn owl, once like a brown owl.”

Unable to stay put with all the pushing, Bilbo began to inch forward slowly on the tips of his toes. Though he was incredibly reluctant, he kept moving forward as he spoke under his breath, “Twice like a barn owl, once like a brown owl? Twice like a…” Suddenly he couldn’t keep himself from turning around, “Are you sure this is a good idea?” 

No one was there to answer him however, for Fili and Kili had already darted off somewhere he could not see. He was left all alone with no one but trolls for company. “Oh dear.” he sighed. With nothing else to do, he continued on. 

He stopped at the very edge of the clearing and crouched down behind a bush. He could see all of the trolls now, and there were three, each more hideous than the next. They were dressed in loincloths and nothing else, and Bilbo retched a little at the smell that was coming from them. There were two seated by the fire that Fili had spotted, and they were practically salivating as the third troll walked past them with the ponies still tucked under his arm. He placed them in what looked like a cobbled together pen. 

One of the trolls started stirring the pot. “Mutton yesterday, mutton today and blimey, if it don't look like mutton again tomorrow. Bert, can’t you find something besides mutton!” he whined as he twirled the spoon through the mix.

The troll who had been carrying the horses smacked his companion on the back of the head. “Quit your griping, Will. These ain't sheep; these is West Nags!” 

“Well I don't like horse,” the third troll cried, “I never have. Not enough fat on them.” 

“Well, Tom, it's better than that leathery old farmer. All skin and bones, he was. I'm still picking bits of him out of me teeth.” Bert poked a fat finger between his lips and Bilbo watched in disgust as he dug around his nasty brown teeth. He spit, and something hard, long, and white landed near Bilbo, who suddenly felt sick to his stomach again. The hobbit now understood exactly what had happened to that farmhouse and its occupants that their camp currently sat next to. A sense of determination settled in his bones. 

Bilbo snuck around the campsite, hiding behind trees and bushes. He came closer and closer to the pen where the four ponies were being held. The troll called Tom coughed a little, and suddenly let out an incredibly wet sneeze, the contents of which fell into the cooking pot. Will looked on in excitement and snatched the spoon up to stir more vigorously. 

“Oh, that's lovely, that is: a floater!” Bert cried as he peered down into the mix. 

“Might improve the flavor!” Will added. 

Tom sniffled and wiped his nose, “There's more where that came from!” He pulled on his nose and started to sneeze again, but Bert grabbed him violently and jerked him back into his seat. 

“Oh, no you don’t! I’m the cook here! You, sit down!”

Bilbo took advantage of this sudden commotion and darted behind the trolls without any of them spotting him. He reached the pen where the ponies were in short order, and tried pulling on the ropes with no success in undoing the tightly pulled knot. Behind him, Tom was whimpering in pain and sneezing even more violently then he had previously had. He pulled a scrap of fabric large enough to be a blanket for a hobbit but just big enough to be a handkerchief for a troll out of the back of his loincloth. Tom turned to the ponies once he was done wiping his nose and Bilbo dove behind the post to remain unseen. 

“Well, I hope you’re going to gut these nags,” Tom said to Bert as he inspected the animals, “I don’t like the stinky parts.”

Bert hit Tom on the head with the spoon, “I said sit down!”

Crying, the troll sat back on his stump. Bilbo looked over at the trolls as he continued to fruitlessly pull on the ropes around the gate. He spotted a knife sticking out of Bert’s loincloth. He eyed it thoughtfully for a moment. The trolls continued to squabble.

“I'm starving! Are we having horse tonight or what?” Tom continued to whine.

Bert sipped the stew. “Just needs some squirrel dung, it does.” He reached behind him and dropped something into the pot. Bilbo resisted the urge to gag. 

“How come he's the cook?” William asked, “Everything tastes the same; everything tastes like chicken.” 

“Well, except the chicken.” Tom countered.

“That tastes like fish!” William agreed. 

“Shut your cakehole,” Bert said crossly, “You'll eat what I give you!”

Bert turned to his brew, taking another sip. “Oh, that is beautifully balanced, that is!” Bert passed the ladle to Tom, who put his handkerchief back over the knife so that he could sip from the ladle. When he refused, he Bert grabbed him by the back of the neck and forced the food down his throat. Tom gagged, then licked his lips. Will tried to snatch the spoon from Bert, who jerked it back and gave him a dirty look.

This entire time Bilbo had been making his way forward, and he was now standing directly behind the troll. He carefully reached for the knife, eyeing it and deciding which was the best way to snatch it as inconspicuous as possibly from the side of the troll. He moved his hands around, trying to calculate exactly how to remove it. Suddenly he took a step back and cursed himself silently.

_What kind of a hobbit are you?_

He turned around and pointed at the ropes. Concentrating, he bit his tongue slightly to prevent himself from speaking. His hand grew warm, and it felt like a gust of wind traveled down his arm and through his pointing finger. Bilbo watched as the ropes sliced apart and fell down onto the ground with a soft thud. The gate to the pen opened about a foot, just for the ponies to notice. Hopefully the trolls would not. He grinned to himself, feeling very accomplished. 

_Wonder what Bell is going to think._ His face turned white, _Oh Bell’s going to kill me._

Behind him, the trolls were still arguing. 

“Me guts are grumbling. I've got to snaffle something. Flesh! I need flesh!” Will said angrily. A thunderous noise came from his midsection, and Bilbo realized just how hungry the trolls truly were. He took a small step back, then dove down as Tom stood up suddenly. The troll let out another harsh sneeze, and reached behind him for his handkerchief. 

The only problem was that he didn’t grab his handkerchief. He grabbed Bilbo, who soon found himself covered in troll snot as Tom blew his nose with the young hobbit. 

Tom peered down at the squirming Bilbo in his hand, taken aback. “Blimey! Bert, look what's come out of me hooter! It's got arms and legs and everything.” The other trolls stood up together and came up next to Tom, staring at Bilbo in amazement. 

“What is it?” William asked, poking Bilbo slightly. 

“Well, I don't know,” Tom replied, “but I don't like the way it wriggles around.” Bilbo didn’t stop squirming, and so Tom dropped him onto the ground with a shout, shaking his hand back and forth as he continued to stare at the smaller creature. Bilbo slowly rose to his feet, barely able to speak for the bile that was rising in his throat. Not only was the fear getting to him, but the smell that was now overpowering since he was closer to the source. Will a few feet away and returned with a rock, which he promptly held over Bilbo’s head. 

“What are you then, an oversized squirrel?”

“I'm a burgl- a hobbit!” Bilbo stammered, barely able to move.

“A Burgla-Hobbit?” Tom exclaimed.

“Can we cook him?” Will asked Bert.

Tom cut in, “We can try!”

Tom reached down to grab Bilbo, who quickly remembered how to use his legs. He dodged, rolling away. Springing back up to his feet he sprinted swiftly towards the trees. He nearly made it away from Tom, but in his terror he had forgotten the other two trolls. Bert was in front of him, blocking his escape. He caught him up by the foot and hung the young hobbit upside down. He sniffed the small thing in his hand, and Bilbo tried not to pass out from the smell of his breath when he exhaled. It was a struggle, considering that he also wanted to pass out from the fear. 

“He wouldn't make more than a mouthful, not when he's skinned and boned!” Bert said in disgust. 

Will got a hopeful look in his eyes, “Perhaps there's more Burgla-Hobbits around these parts. Might be enough for a pie!”

“Oh, I love pie.” Tom sighed, “Let’s ask him."

“Are there any more of you little fellows hiding where you shouldn't?” Bert demanded, swinging Bilbo back and forth slightly. 

“No.” Bilbo squeaked out, his face growing steadily more red. 

“He's lying.” Tom accused. 

“No, I'm not!”

“Hang his toes over the fire!” cried Will, “Make him squeal!”

Kili suddenly burst out of the bushes behind Will, slicing his sword across the leg of the troll. Tom promptly began squealing himself, jerking his leg up in pain. Kili hacked at the troll again, catching him in the toes this time. Unable to put weight onto his cut up leg, Tom fell over into a cloud of dust. Kili twirled his sword around in his palm, eying the remaining trolls with a sneer. Bert and Will were looking at him with startled expressions. 

“Drop him!”

“Do what?” 

Kili twirled his sword again, a challenging expression appearing on his face, “I said, drop him.” 

Bert and Will looked at each other and nodded. Letting out a low growl, Will slung Bilbo forward into Kili. For his part, the dwarf dropped his sword and caught Bilbo before falling over onto the ground. He rolled over just in time, since the rest of the dwarves jumped out from the bushes and began to run across the clearing. If Kili had not rolled, they would have been tripped over and stomped on. Kili let Bilbo go and snatched his sword back up. 

“Make for the camp.” he ordered, before joining the commotion the rest of the dwarves were causing. 

Bilbo scooted back on his rear until he was slightly obscured by the bushes and he watched in awe as the dwarves hacked at the trolls. They were all armed with various weapons, Throin with his sword, Dwalin and Gloin with battle axes, two of the Ur brothers had spears in their hands, and  
_Oh my goodness, does Bombur have the spare skillet in his hands? And Ori nothing but a slingshot?_ No matter what they had in their hands, however, the dwarves were using it skillfully and they were clearly and steadily overcoming the trolls. 

One of them snatched up Nori by his hair, and noticing his brother in danger Ori took his slingshot and hit the trolle directly in the eye. Being temporarily blind did not make him any less dangerous as he slung his meaty fist at the young dwarf, who darted away with a cry. He tripped over a branch, and would have been troll jelly a moment later, only Dwalin suddenly appeared with his battle axe in hand, leaping over Ori’s prone body to drive the blunt end of his weapon into the dangly bits of the troll. The beast let out a scream, and Dwalin swung his weapon around to swipe the sharp end across his face. He took several steps back and stood over Ori until the smaller dwarf was able to stand. He sent Dwalin a grateful look, and they both jumped back into the fray.

Bilbo was pulled out of his thoughts and observation by the sound of a pony neighing in fear. Looking up, he realized that the stupid beasts had never made their way out of the open gate. Steeling himself, he darted forward and danced around the flying blades. None of the dwarves seemed to take notice of him, nor did the trolls. He reached the pen, and yanked the gate open. He ran inside and chased the ponies out, hoping against hope that they would get away and make it back to the camp. He stopped to watch them disappear into the trees, and that was his mistake. 

From across the clearing, Will spotted him standing still in the pen. The troll lumbered over, grabbing Bilbo by his arms and legs. Tom was finally able to get all the way up, and grabbed Bilbo as well so that he was held between them. Bert stomped over to stand beside his brothers. Kili was knocked to the ground as one of the trolls brushed past him, but he quickly stood up once he realized what was happening. All of the dwarves looked up in horror. 

The young hobbit was currently being held between two of the trolls who each had an arm and a leg. Pain was written across his face as they continued to squeeze him tighter by the minute and he looked at the dwarves desperately. 

“Bilbo!” Kili cried in fear. He rushed forward only for Thorin to hold him back. 

“Lay down your arms,” William said threatenly. 

“Or we'll rip his off!” Tom added gleefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting two chapters today, simply because by the time I finished on the trolls it was much to long for simply one chapter. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!
> 
> Young Bilbo: Tom Holland


	12. Of Troublesome Trolls: Part the Second

Bilbo took several deep breaths and prepared for the most pain he had ever experienced in his life. He was too scared to concentrate on anything but dying, and no magic spell would get him out of this even if he had use of his hands. He looked Thorin in the eye and nodded, knowing that the King-in-Exile would never risk his quest for a small insignificant hobbit. For the first time, he realized that he couldn’t see Bell anywhere, and a part of him was glad. After witnessing the death of their father, she didn’t need to see this as well. Resigned to his fate, he leaned back and closed his eyes. 

_Green Mother, please take me quickly._

The sound of metal hitting the ground made him look back at the dwarves. His mouth fell open in astonishment as he saw Thorin standing in front of his sword that had been planted firmly into the ground. All of the others were looking at Thorin in shock. Kili turned back to the trolls and threw his blade down next to Thorin’s. The King pointed firmly at the ground, and in reluctance all the rest of the dwarves followed his lead, dropping their weapons onto the ground. Ori threw his down hardest of all, and Bilbo would have laughed as the slingshot bounced to the ground if he hadn’t been quite so terrified. Bombur stroked his skillet mournfully before setting it down gently. Thorin looked angrier than Bilbo had ever seen him, and though the hobbit was grateful he also wished that he could disappear in this moment so as not to face the wrath of the dwarf if they ever were to escape. 

In short order, Tom and Bert had all of the dwarves caught up, stripped, and several of them stuffed tightly into sacks. (Will kept hold of Bilbo in case anyone got any grand ideas of rescue.) Bilbo was the last, and then they threw most of them into a pile. The ones that did not end up in the sacks (that is, Dwalin, Fili, Dori, Oin, and Gloin) were tied to a spit and hung over the fire. 

Bert was tending to the spit, spinning it back and forth with a gleeful (if one could call it that, he rather looked like he was about to cry, that’s how ugly trolls are) look on his face. William threw some more logs on the fire and stoked it up until the flames spiked. The dwarves on the spit cried out as the heat from the fire began to tickle their feet. Tom was eyeing the bunch they had caught, practically drooling and licking his lips. 

“Oh, come on Bert. Don’t bother cooking them.” Tom complained. 

“Let's just sit on them and squash them into jelly.” Will added. 

The dwarves all began to struggle harder at the thought, but they were not able to break out of their sacks. Bilbo rolled around and found himself lying on top of Balin and Thorin, and held in the urge to squeak fearfully at the look the King was giving him. He gave up for a moment, needing to catch his breath. He needed to know something, after all.

“Where is she?” he whispered to Balin.

“Who?” the old dwarf asked. 

“Bell wasn’t with you, where is she?” He was hoping she had held onto her wits and stayed in the camp. 

Balin was confused, and so was Thorin (who was trying to hide the fact that he was listening to their conversation with an interested ear), “Bell who?” 

“My sister, you dimwit!” Bilbo exasperatedly exclaimed (he forgot something very important, you see), “Please just tell me you left her at the camp!”

His heart dropped into his stomach as he remembered about the cultural differences. He resisted the urge to groan. (But, he could not be blamed for not remembering. He was, after all, having a very bad night.) 

Balin and Thorin and indeed the rest of the dwarves piled up together were looking at the young hobbit as if he suddenly grew another head. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Bilbo swiftly apologized, “I know it’s bad to mention women traveling, and I’ll try not to mention it again, after all I am a Sensible Hobbit and a Baggins and we respect the traditions of our guests. I just have to know that Bella is safe.” 

“Bella?” Thorin croaked, looking very much unkingly with the shade his face was currently turning. 

“Sister, Master Boggins?” Kili exclaimed. His face was white, as were the faces of all the dwarves. 

“Oh dear.” Balin sighed. 

“What?” Bilbo demanded, but none of the dwarves would answer him. They were all in a state of shock. The young hobbit could do nothing but turn back to the trolls. (There was no way he was getting a response from the dwarves with the state they were in.) 

Bert was heartily disagreeing with his companions. He was enjoying himself. “They should be sauteed and grilled with a sprinkle of sage.” He said. 

“Oh. Well, that does sound quite nice.” Tom allowed, nodding his head and licking his lips some more. 

Will, however, was not on the same page as the other two trolls. He was looking off to the distance, noticing that the sky was slowly but surely growing lighter by the minute. It had already been close to midnight when they had first found the ponies, and now morning was growing closer and closer. 

“Never mind the seasoning; we ain't got all night! Dawn ain't far away and I don't fancy being turned to stone.”

Bilbo (who was listening very closely indeed) lit up at the words the troll had spoken. He looked up and noticed the same thing that Will had noticed, that dawn was approaching. A mischievous look crossed over his face as Bert continued to drone on and on about the seasoning. He had a terribly wonderful idea. 

“Wait,” he cried, jumping up as swiftly as he could, what with being tied up in a sack. “You are making a terrible mistake!” Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a flash of brown and green that looked suspiciously like the colors of one of his waistcoats. 

_Bell._

“A terrible mistake, I say.” he added. _She’ll have us out._ Privately he wished she had stayed put in the camp, but he knew his sister better than anyone and she wouldn’t have sat still for long before coming after him. He would bet his coin purse that she had been watching them the entire time, waiting for the right moment. 

“You can't reason with them,” Gloin told him gruffly, dancing around in his sack in an attempt to free himself. 

“They’re half-wits!” Dori cried from his place on the spit. Bilbo watched as he disappeared to the other side as Bert continued to turn it.

“Half-wits? What does that make us?” Fili and Kili said together. 

Bilbo ignored all of them and continued to address the trolls. “I meant with the seasoning.” he bit out, rocking back and forth as he tried to find his balance with his large feet caught up in the fabric of the sack. 

Everyone in the clearing froze, and the dwarves stared at Bilbo in shock and horror. Tilting up his hobbit ear, he heard a faint giggle coming from the other side of the clearing. If he had looked down, he would have seen the promise of murder in the eyes of the King-in-Exile. 

“What about the seasoning?” 

Bilbo made a show of wrinkling his nose, “Well, have you smelt them? You're going to need something stronger than sage before you plate this lot up.” 

No one but Bilbo noticed as vines slowly began to grow out of the ground around the feet of the trolls. 

“Smell?” Kili was crying out. 

“Traitor!” His uncle shouted. 

All of the dwarves began to yell out in protest, calling Bilbo all sorts of ugly names and promising him a slow death once they were released. He winced at the hatred in their eyes, but was grateful their noise distracted the trolls and covered up the fact that the vines were now beginning to crawl up their toes. Thankfully, they took no notice. 

“What do you know about cooking dwarf?” Will asked in suspicion. 

“Shut up,” cried Bert impatiently, “and let the flurgaburburrhobbit talk.”

“Yes, well, the secret to cooking dwarf is -”

“Yes? Come on!”

“It's -”

“Tell us the secret.” 

“Yes, I'm telling you, the secret...the secret is to...skin them first!” He sat back on his heels, satisfied with his distraction.  
The dwarves began to struggle harder, and their threats to Bilbo became more violent. The trolls thankfully continued not to notice the vines that were now traveling up their legs. (After all, they were very hungry and very stupid, and entirely focused on their dinner.)

A terrifying grin stretched across Bert’s face, and Bilbo once again was hit with troll breath. This time it nearly knocked him down, but somehow he managed to stay on his feet. Bert reached behind him with his large palm facing up. “Tom, get me filleting knife.” 

“What a load of rubbish! I've eaten plenty with their skins on.” William said very matter-of-factly, “Scruff them, I say, boots and all.” 

Bilbo suddenly caught sight of a familiar grey hat dashing between some large rocks at the end of the clearing they were currently trapped in. He eyed the spot suspiciously, and inched back towards the pile of dwarves. The sky was getting lighter, but it would still be a moment before the sun was able to breach over the rocks. 

Tom was agreeing with Will. “Aye, there’s nothing wrong with a bit of raw dwarf.” He limped around Bert to snatch up Bombur, and he didn’t even notice the vines around his legs breaking under the force of his stride. Bilbo winced, but none of the trolls reacted or even seemed to notice. A small curse came from outside of the clearing, and Thorin and Bilbo both looked in the direction of the sound. 

Bilbo couldn’t see Bell, but he bet she could see him. _Hurry_ , he mouthed. 

Tom was dangling Bombur over his head, “Nice and crunchy,” and he lowered Bombur ever closer to his gaping mouth. 

“No, not that one!” Bilbo screamed, “He’s, he’s infected.”

“Huh?” Tom exclaimed, turning to the hobbit. 

“Do what?” Will said in suspicion. 

“Yeah. He’s got...worms...worms in his, his tubes!”

Tom hollered, dropping Bombur, who didn't even register his landing. It caused him no pain, nor did it hurt the dwarves he had been thrown on top of. Being the largest and heaviest of the group, they all looked at him in astonishment. It had been like landing on a pillow. He shrugged as best he could in the bag and turned back to watch Bilbo. 

Bilbo continued on his current course, and the vines began to wrap themselves around the thighs and waists of the trolls (who were far too focused on the hobbit in front of them to realize what was happening, and Bilbo wondered if perhaps they were already beginning to slowly turn to stone and that was why they couldn’t feel the plants). 

“Yeah, in fact they all have. They’re infested with parasites, terrible business you see, it’s why I haven’t eaten them myself. I wouldn’t risk it, really I wouldn’t.” He made a show of wrinkling his nose. 

Will wrinkled his nose at the hobbit. 

“For heaven's sakes,” Oin said. 

“Did he really say we have parasites?” Kili asked, shooting Bilbo a look, “We don’t have parasites, you have parasites!”

“What the hell are you on about laddie?!” Balin was demanding. 

Bilbo rolled his eyes in exasperation. Thorin looked from the vines currently winding themselves around the legs of the trolls and back to the young hobbit in front of them. A light went on in his eyes, and he kicked his nephews as majestically as a dwarf king can kick someone when he’s tied up in a sack. The movement caused his entire Company to look at him, and once they saw the look in his eyes as he stared at Bilbo they all realized just what was happening. 

“I’ve got parasites as big as my arm!”

“Mine are the biggest parasites, I’ve got huge parasites!”

“I’m absolutely infested with parasites!”

“I’m the worst off, I have the most parasites!”

“We’re all riddled, absolutely riddled!”

They were all talking over one another, trying to compete for who had the most, the biggest, the best. 

“And what would you have us do then,” Will called out over the dwarves who then fell silent, “Let them all go?”

Bilbo shrugged nonchalantly. “Well…” 

“You think I don’t know what you’re on about,” he said as he pointed accusingly at Bilbo, “This little ferret is taking us all for fools!” 

“Ferret?!” Bilbo was highly offended. 

“Fools?!” Bert was also highly offended. 

Suddenly the vines tightened around the trolls and froze, anchoring them down and holding them in place tightly. The three of them cried out in anger as they came to the realization that they could no longer move (and indeed, Bella’s vines probably wouldn’t last very long, but they would last long enough). They began to thrash about as best they could with their upper body, and the vines began to crack under the force. More vines began to spring up quickly to take the place of the ones that were breaking since there was no longer any need for them to grow without being noticed.

“THE DAWN WILL TAKE YOU ALL!!” 

Everyone looked up as Gandalf finally appeared on top of the rocks. So distracted were they by the appearance of the Wizard that the trolls forgot about the fact that they were currently being held in place. 

“Who's that?”

“No idea.”

“Can we eat him too?” 

Gandalf held his staff above his hand and firmly struck the stone beneath his feet. As he stepped off to the side with a swirl of his grey robes, the group in the clearing watched as a crack appeared where his staff had struck. The rock broke into two pieces, and the bigger half fell away from the other in seconds. The trolls realized what was happening moments before it happened, and they tried to run away into the shadow, only to be held in place by the vines. 

The sunlight had streamed through the gap in the rock, and it stuck the trolls on the skin. They screamed and tried to hide their eyes, but it was too late. The dwarves and hobbits watched in awe (and with some horror as well) as the beasts began to scream and howl once the sunlight poured across them. Their skin cracked and burned, and to solid stone they turned as everyone watched. 

Bilbo let out a sigh of relief and fell backwards onto his bum. The dwarves were all silent for a moment before letting out a cry of joy, telling Bilbo how grateful they were. It was a rapid change from the death threats he had received only minutes before. If he had been looking at Thorin, he would have been shocked to see the dwarf with a happy grin on his face. As it was, he was quite tired of being trapped in the sack. 

“Bell,” he called out, “A little help here!”

Everyone grew silent as a small figure leaped out of one of the trees at the edge of the clearing. Her cap was off, her braid had fallen out, and there was no mistaking her for what she wasn’t any longer. 

Gandalf let out a curse from where he stood. 

“Need assistance, brother dear?” the hobbit lass asked.


	13. Of Revelations

The shocked silence was broken as Dwalin suddenly twitched on the spit. “Oi, you bugger, get your mangy foot outta me back!”

“Hang on Mister Dwalin!” Bella called out. She planted her feet very firmly down into the ground, and _reached_ into the very earth with unseen hands. Closing her eyes in concentration, she pulled on every bit of moisture she could sense beneath her toes and yanked it up and out. In short order a ball of water was splashing on the fire, extinguishing it. 

Bella sat down on her bottom suddenly, her head spinning slightly. In the past five minutes she had just done more magic all at once then she probably had all year. She felt sweaty, and breathed hard for a few moments before she was able to stand back up, even if her stance was slightly shaky. 

“Bell,” Bilbo cried, unable to keep the concern and worry out of his voice. 

“Don’t worry about me, brother,” she replied, “I’ll be alright in a mo’.” 

She pointed at his sack (much in the same way he had pointed at the ropes tied around the pony pen earlier), and it fell down at his feet, leaving him in his underthings. 

They staunchly ignored the expressions of the dwarves, and set about freeing them in short order. The next thing was to untie the sacks and let out the dwarves. They were nearly suffocated, and very annoyed: they had not at all enjoyed lying there listening to the trolls making plans for roasting them and squashing them and mincing them. Nor indeed were they happy about Bilbo attempting to teach the trolls how to properly cook dwarf, for even if he was playing for time it still burned a little that a member of the Company would suggest that they be skinned or that they had parasites. 

They could not, however, ignore the dwarves once they all were freed and able to stare hard at the hobbit-pair. 

Bella, much like her brother, quietly thought that she should have stayed at home. 

Thorin was the last one that they freed, and he stomped over as majestically as he could for being in his unmentionables (and indeed, Bella was quite resisting the urge to blush like a schoolgirl at the sight of so many men, even if they were dwarves, currently undressed in her presence) and planted himself in front of the Baggins siblings. 

“And what, pray tell, is this?” he asked in a dangerous voice. 

Bella, if she had known Thorin better, would have curbed her tongue and not spoken, letting the situation resolve itself. She glanced at Gandalf, and could see that he was about to speak. She did not, however, know Thorin better, and she was very much put out at the Wizard and his interference and subterfuge, and she was also very much upset at the thought that her brother had been set against the trolls without so much of a by-your-leave, much less a weapon. 

“I should be asking you that.” she returned hotly. 

Well. No one knew that Thorin could turn such a lovely shade of purple. 

Bella should have read the warning signs. But while she was truly a very intelligent, Sensible hobbit, she was not well acquainted with dwarves, having only been traveling with them for several weeks. 

“What were you doing, sending him in there? Against trolls? My brother, against trolls? How could you!”

“Now see here…..” Thorin shouted, only to be cut off by Kili (who was attempting to save the Miss Baggins from his Uncles wrath). 

“Well, he’s the burglar, isn’t he? Who else better to steal back our ponies?” 

“You sent him in there with no weapon, no help, and ran away like cowards, you pair of children.” 

Fili and Kili both puffed up at this. “Hey, now,” Fili hissed, “We’re of age the same as anyone here, you don’t get to call us children!”

“He’s a tween!” Bella shot back, “You’ve no right sending him to do a grown hobbits job!”

“Bell,” Bilbo said in an attempt to placate his sister, “I could have gone back, I chose to…” 

“You’ve proved you’re not even old enough to be making choices after this stunt. This isn’t like climbing the Party Tree with your playfellows, Bilbo, you could’ve been killed, and eaten, and then where would I be?” 

Bilbo hung his head in shame and the rest of the dwarves continued to look on at the pair as they slowly came to understand just what Bella was insinuating. 

“How old are you anyway?” she asked FIli and Kili, “I’ve half a mind to put you both over my knee like a pair of faunts.”  
“I’ll have you know that I’m seventy-seven!” Kili returned with a triumphant grin. 

“Eight-five.” Fili added. 

Well. That was just a bit much for Belladonna Baggins the Second (who, for the record, was only thirty-three) to take in her current state. “Seventy-seven?” she said as she slid back down to her bottom. This position caused her to have to look up into the faces of those surrounding her. “Eighty-five.”

Gandalf continued to try to speak, but Bilbo and Thorin both cut him off with a look. 

“And you’re of age?” Bella asked faintly. 

“Kili’s not eighty yet,” Fili said, “But he’s close enough, even if he is the youngest.” 

(The subject of Bella and the fact that Bella was Bella and not Bungo was temporarily tabled for this new revelation.) 

Bilbo bit out a laugh, and Bella turned her eyes on him. He promptly shut up once he caught sight of the expression on her face. 

“How old do you think we are?” Bilbo couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“Well, you’ve got to be somewhere around eighty, and this one maybe one-hundred-something?” 

Kili ignored the dirty look his Uncle was sending him, and stomped away to put on his clothes once he finished speaking. The rest of the dwarves followed suit, even Thorin, and this gave the Baggins siblings a few moments to collect themselves. 

The dwarves were finishing up, pulling on boots or looking around for supplies they could filch from the trolls when Bella finally found her voice. 

“I’m thirty-three. Bilbo is only fifteen.” 

Well. That did it. 

All the dwarves turned to look at the hobbits, and they had all turned that interesting shade of white that Thorin had turned earlier that night. Gandalf had had quite enough of being shushed at this point and opened his mouth. 

He wasn’t able to speak, however, since he was cut off by two sharp thuds as something heavy hit the ground. 

Balin and Dori had both fainted dead away. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bilbo waved his hand in front of Balin’s face, and the dwarf’s eyes opened suddenly. He sat up as a coughing fit overtook him, and Bilbo laid a hand on his back gently. Balin was able to breathe again, and he looked up to see concerned eyes of the Company staring back down at him. Dori was seated next to him, rubbing his eyes.

“Well, now that he’s awake, you best be moving on.” Thorin said gruffly, stomping off. 

“Excuse me,” Bella couldn’t stop herself, “But who are you addressing?” 

“You, of course. I’ll not have infants and girl children traveling any further. You’ll be going back to the Shire, and you’ll be going now. There is no place for you in our company.” 

Bella moved over to stand directly in front of the King. If the situation had not been what it was, the picture they painted would have been considered either comical or lovely, depending on what angle you were viewing it from (as it was, Ori made a note to sketch it later for his records). A young hobbit lass who didn’t even reach his shoulder was standing toe-to-toe with the Dwarf King. The only thing big about her was her feet. She was just tall enough to shove a finger in his face, and she was shaking it just under his nose. Thorin, meanwhile, just stood there in silence, more or less ignoring the shouting that was coming from under his chin. 

“ALRIGHT, THAT’S IT! I’VE HAD MORE THAN ANY SENSIBLE HOBBIT COULD TAKE! I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF DWARVES AND OF DWARF KINGS! I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF MEDDLESOME WIZARDS! I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF BEING MANAGED!”

Gandalf tried to speak again, but Biblo tugged on his robes. When the Wizard looked down at him, he gave him a hard stare and shook his head. 

Thorin looked coldly down his nose at the small creature ranted and raved below him, and acted in a way only a King-in-Exile could act. He turned up his nose, dismissed her without a word, and stomped off. 

Or rather, he tried to stomp off. He was rather prevented from doing so by what happened next.

Bella, you see, had reached her final breaking point.  
Pure rage burned through her and was released with a horse cry. Her body pulsed, her arms flew out to the sides, and Thorin Oakenshield, King-in-Exile, was thrown to the ground as the very earth cracked beneath his boots. The crack started at the feet of the hobbit, and extended just past the King. 

All the dwarves, Bilbo, and Gandalf, froze where they stood. 

Bella panted, and leaned down over her knees to hold her head in her hands. Lights flashed before her eyes, and no sound could be heard in the clearing with the exception of the ponies knickering and her own harsh breathing. Bilbo slowly creeped up beside her and grasped her by the elbow. He looked at Thorin, who was still sprawled on the ground with astonishment written over his face. 

“What is the lifespan of dwarves?” he asked quietly. 

“What?” 

Bilbo repeated his question lowly. Bella struggled to stand up straight, and resolved to lean heavily against her brother. 

“Two-hundred fifty,” replied Balin, “Though some of us live to see three-hundred.” 

“Hobbits only live to one-hundredish, maybe a little longer. The oldest of us has maybe managed to live to one-hundred thirty. I’ve already lived nearly a fifth of my lifetime. I’m halfway to being an adult.” 

They all paled even further at this realization. 

“If you’re not of age, then why did you come? I wouldn’t let my wee lad follow us.” This came from Gloin. 

“Our business is our own.” Bella bit out, “And seeing as you’ve never considered either of us a true part of the Company, I see no reason to share it with you now.” 

“But-” 

“We signed a contract.” Bilbo stated firmly, cutting Fili off, “We signed a contract, and we are Baggins, and a Baggins always keeps their word.” 

“Consider your contract fulfilled. You are no longer welcome here. No one will speak with you, no one will acknowledge you. It will be as if you are not here, and so you should not be. Return to the Shire. Return to your hole of comfort and ease. I am the King, and-” 

“No.” Bella said defiantly, “Not my King.” 

Thorin opened his mouth to continue the argument, but Gandalf cut him off, finally having had enough. He had spent the past few minutes examining the statues that the trolls had become. 

“ENOUGH! We have more pressing things to consider. They must have come down from the Ettenmoors.”

Thorin turned his attention to this new concern, “Since when do mountain trolls venture this far south?”

“Oh, not for an age.” Gandalf’s tone grew darker, “Not since a darker power ruled these lands. In any case, they could not have moved in daylight.”

“There must be a cave nearby.”

“You are wasting time now. Do you not hear your King? Don't you realize that the trolls must have a cave or a hole dug somewhere near to hide from the sun in? We must look into it!"

The dwarves and hobbits were reluctant to turn from their current discussion, but at the Wizard’s continued urging and the glare that came from Thorin they moved away from the clearing and all around the tree line, searching for the alleged cave. Kili suddenly gagged and scrunched up his nose.

“What's that stench?”

He had found a small cave set into a hill, maybe one-hundred feet from where the campfire had been.

“It's a troll hoard. Be careful what you touch.” 

They all found rags or scraps of cloth to hold over their noses, but this did little to prevent the stench from seeping through to their noses. The dwarves coughed and gagged as they made their descent down into the hole. 

Bella and Bilbo decided to wait outside the entrance (which was the most Sensible Hobbit thing they had done all day). Some of the dwarves would later wish they had made this choice as well for what they saw inside. 

There were bones on the floor and that nasty smell was in the air, and they could see that there was a good deal of food jumbled carelessly on shelves and on the ground. All around them was an untidy litter of plunder, of all sorts. Brass buttons to pots full of gold coins standing in a corner. 

The gold caused a glint to appear in the eyes of the dwarves. 

“Seems a shame to leave it just lying around.” Bofur said to Gloin, “Why anyone could fall in and take it.” 

“Agreed,” Gloin replied with a pompous grin, “Nori, get a shovel would you?” 

The dwarves not involved in burying some of the hoard found a much more solemn sight further in.

There were lots of clothes, too, hanging on the walls that were much too small for trolls (I am afraid they belonged to victims). Thorin and Balin bowed their heads briefly in respect for the lives clearly lost. Once their eyes opened again they noted that among the clothes and against the walls were several swords of various makes, shapes, and sizes. Several caught Thorin’s eye in particular. 

“These swords were not made by any troll.” 

He picked up the largest of the group and passed it off to Gandalf, who eyed it curiously. “Aye, nor were they made by any smith to be found in the towns of Men.” 

In unison they unsheathed the blades, and were overcome with awe at the sight of the craftsmanship. The hilts were studded with several jewels each, and the swords themselves were pure perfection even though they were covered in cobwebs and dust. Thorin could tell that they were not of dwarvish make, though he privately (though he would never admit it) thought they were of nearly as good craftsmanship. 

Gandalf examined the blade in his hand more closely. “These were forged in Gondolin by the High Elves of the First Age.” 

A look of disgust overtook Thorin, and he very nearly threw the blade on the floor of the cave. 

“Now, see here,” Gandalf chastised him, “You could not wish for a finer blade.” 

Reluctantly Thorin attached the scabbard to his waist. He made his way back to the front of the cave to stand next to Dwalin, who was standing over a portion of the hoard that had a deeper portion than the rest. Looking down, Thorin noticed Nori, Bofur and Gloin burying something into the dip. 

Gloin looked up at him and winked. “We’re making a long-term deposit.” 

Dwalin and Thorin both shook their heads. 

“Finish up, and let’s get out of this foul place.” 

Thorin darted up and out of the cave, and once they put the final pat of dirt over their treasure, the rest of the dwarves followed closely behind. Gandalf followed them, but paused when his foot struck something in the dirt. Looking down, he could see a small bundle covered up by leaves. He used to staff to brush them away. Reaching down, he gathered the bundle up in his arms and peered inside the cloth. What he saw inside made him grin, and he joined the others outside of the cave. 

He ignored all of the dwarves who were currently fussing with the ponies and made his way over to the hobbits. 

“Bilbo,” he called out, “Here, this is about your size.” 

And from the bundle in his arms he withdrew a small sword, just as beautiful and well made as the ones that he and Thorin had found in the hoard. 

Bilbo cut a side eye to his sister who was glaring at the Wizard. He ignored the expression on her face and took the blade. Bella stared harder at her brother, who was looking at the blade in wonder. He finally steeled himself and tried to give it back. “I can’t take this,” he said reluctantly. 

“The blade is of elvish make, it will glow blue when Orcs or Goblins are nearby.” 

A veil of sorrow fell over the eyes of both hobbits, and Bella reached for the sword to press it to Bilbo’s chest. 

“Bell, I’ve never used a sword.” 

“And I hope you never have to, faunt,” she spoke quietly, looking deep into his eyes, “But if you ever have to….”  
“True courage,” Gandalf added, “comes with knowing not when to take a life, but when to spare one.” He tilted his head and leveled a fond look at the hobbits. 

“Also, Belladonna, these are for you.” He reached into the bundle again and withdrew a set of dual swords, and though they were extremely similar they were smaller than the one he handed Bilbo, maybe about two-thirds of the length and half as wide. She took them from him with no complaint and a nod of thanks. 

A great commotion could be heard coming from the distance, and Bella looked up to see all of the birds that had been perched in the trees around them flying away. 

“Something’s coming!” Thorin yelled. 

Gandalf hurried towards the dwarves, who were all taking defensive positions around one another. He withdrew his sword as he moved. “Stay together! Hurry now, arm yourselves.”

Bilbo and Bella were left at the mouth of the cave examining the gifts they had been given. After the night they had, they were no longer worried about anything dangerous. (For indeed, it was quite alright if the dwarves had to dig themselves out of a mess this time.) Bilbo withdrew his balde from the scabbard and looked at it with a keen eye. Bella strapped her scabbard to her waist and pulled it as tight as it would go. They looked at each other before moving to stand behind the dwarves. 

A sled suddenly burst out of the bushes, and Bella was astonished to see that it was being pulled by rabbits that were nearly as large as Farmer Maggot’s hunting hounds. 

‘THIEVES! FIRE! MURDER!” the sled driver was screaming at them. He paused when he noted who was among them, breathing heavily. 

“Radagast,” Gandalf sighed with relief.


	14. Of Excellent Sprinters

“Why, it’s Radagast the Brown!” Gandalf continued in relief. 

The Wizard’s moved away from the rest of the group and began to converse quietly outside of the hearing of dwarves and hobbits. Bella huffed, blowing several strands of hair out of her face. Thorin made to follow them but was stopped by a harsh look from Gandalf. He cursed quietly under his breath. 

Bella was suddenly next to him. “Do you need to hear what they are saying?” 

(After all, she was quite tired of being managed and brushed off by the Wizard, and whatever feelings of animosity may have existed between them she was certain the King-in-Exile was of the same opinion.)

He ignored her, and so she repeated the question, and kept repeating it until he finally let out a loud sigh and nodded. She motioned for him to lean down closer to her. 

_Oh, dear, is that pine and earth and woods I smell?_

She blinked several times to clear her odd thoughts. “I don’t like you,” she told him firmly, “But you aren’t the only one who wants to eavesdrop.” 

He leveled a curious gaze at her and his eyes darkened once he finally made notice of their close proximity. 

She cupped her hands, placing one behind his ear and one behind her own. Closing her eyes, she muttered something unintelligible under her breath, and suddenly he could hear everything around them. The wind whooshing through the trees, the crackling still coming from beneath the logs of the put out fire, but most importantly he could hear Gandalf and the odd Brown Wizard conversing on the other side of the trees. 

“What on earth are you doing here?” Gandalf was saying. 

“Why looking for you of course, and here you are! Something is wrong, Gandalf, very terribly wrong.”

“Yes, what is it?” 

From the distance Thorin and Bella could see Radagast stick his finger in the air as if he had something incredibly important to say (and indeed he did), but then he froze, looking very puzzled and contrite. He gasped suddenly and made as if to speak, but he froze again. Gandalf sighed in exasperation. 

_Oh dear Green Mother, there’s one of them madder than Gandalf!_

“Oh, just give me a minute,” Radagast snapped, “Oh, I had a thought, and now I’ve lost it, and I could’ve sworn it was on the tip of my tongue!”

He pointed wildly to his mouth and his arms flailed around. He looked very put out. His face took on a peculiar shape, and his eyes crossed downwards to try and peer past his nose to his lips. 

“Oh,” he slurred as he stuck his tongue out, “Why, it wasn’t a thought at all. It’s a little stick insect!” 

Bella resisted the urge to gag. 

Gandalf reached to touch the tongue of the other Wizard and when he drew away his hand, sure enough, there was a stick insect covered in drool clinging to his fingers. He threw away the bug abruptly and turned an angry glare to his fellow. 

“The Greenwood is sick, Gandalf.” Radagast said with more conviction than Bella thought him capable from producing, “A darkness has fallen over it. Nothing grows anymore, at least nothing good. The air is foul with decay. But worse are the webs.”

_Darkness? Decay? Webs? Oh my…._

Gandalf paced in a circle around the Brown Wizard. His stride paused. “Webs? What do you mean?”

“Spiders, Gandalf,” Radagast hissed, “Giant ones. Some kind of spawn of Ungoliant, or I am not a wizard. I followed their trail. They came from Dol Guldur.”

(Spiders were a horrible thought, especially for hobbits you see. A small hobbit to one of the Big Folk would hardly be noticed but when one considers that to a hobbit spiders are larger than their hands then the fear they felt was completely understandable.)

Well, that did it. Gandlaf pulled out his pipe and lit it, taking several puffs as he pondered. Radagast stood by him impatiently.

“Dol Guldur? But the old fortress is abandoned.” Gandalf finally said slowly. 

“No, Gandalf,” Radagasts reply was equally slow and even more quiet, “it is not. A dark power dwells in there, such as I have never felt before. It is the shadow of an ancient horror. One that can summon the spirits of the dead. I saw him, Gandalf, from out of the dark. A Necromancer has come.”

Radagast jumped out of his own skin quite suddenly (and if Bella jumped up along with him Thorin was kind enough not to mention it), looking for all the world like he had frighted himself with his own words. And indeed he had, for speaking of the memory had brought it to light in his mind and he was reliving the horrors he had witnessed only mere days before. He had fought the thing, and he had fled that place, and now here he was trying to warn one of his brothers. 

“Sorry,” he apologized. 

Gandalf held the pipe to the lips of Radagast (Bella was very disgusted to see that he wiped it on his own nasty grey beard first), and the frightened Wizard took several grateful drafts of the smoke. His eyes crossed and seemed to roll into his head. 

“There, there,” Gandalf said, “Have some Old Toby. It’ll help settle you down. Now, a Necromancer? Are you sure?” 

Without another word from his robes, Radagast pulled out a small parcel to hand to Gandalf. The Grey Wizard eyed it warily. He peered inside the wrappings before looking at Radagast in shock. 

“That is not from the world of the living.” The Brown Wizard said. 

Bella and Thorin suddenly broke apart from one another and covered their ears as a sharp howl tore through the air. All could hear it, but thanks to Bella’s spell for the two of them it was ten times as loud. Bella and Bilbo turned positively white at the noise, and Thorin suddenly found himself with an arm full of hobbit lady as she froze and tipped over slightly. In the same moment, several dwarves all cried out and reached for Bilbo as he sat very heavily on the ground. 

“Now is not the time to faint!” Thorin cried. He shook the bundle in his arms, but Bella made no sign of responding. With no other option, he slapped her clean across the face. Having observed his uncle, Fili did the same to Bilbo. Both hobbits stuttered for a moment before turning back to the direction the howl had originally come from. Bella was able to steady herself and stepped away from Thorin, more than a little red in the face. 

“Was that a wolf? Are there wolves out there?” Bilbo hissed, and the dwarves were shocked to hear that his tone was somewhat hopeful.

Dwalin appeared next to the young hobbit with his axes ready in his hands, “Wolf? No, that is not a wolf.” His eyes searched the treeline. 

All the other dwarves drew their weapons and adjusted themselves slightly. (They were, after all, dwarves, and dwarves did not run from a fight. A low growl came from behind them, and they all turned to see a warg creeping down the rock face toward them. 

The evil thing had caught site of Bilbo, and thinking the little thing looked like a mouthful of a snack, it barked (a manic, dark sound) and leaped down towards the hobbit. Bella screamed and ran for her brother, but there was no need. He tried to scrabble backwards but fell down roughly. The warg drew ever closer, ignoring all the dwarves who tried to get its attention. Bilbo cried out in pure terror as the warg lunged for his feet, and suddenly the mangy thing tripped over nothing and slammed into the ground. 

Thorin ran towards it and finished it off with a thrust of his new blade. He drove it in and yanked it back out several times, just to be sure. It got stuck on the third blow, and he braced his foot on the midsection of the animal and tried to pull it out. Another warg appeared just behind him, leaping for the back of his neck. He finally removed his sword, but it was too late. 

“KILI!” Fili screamed. 

The warg trying to kill Thorin fell to Kili’s arrows. Dwalin whacked it several times with his axe just to be certain it was dead. All the dwarves, hobbits, and Wizards came to look at the two corpses lying at their feet. One of them twitched as Dwalin removed one of his axes from its head. Bella kicked it in fear. 

Thorin looked around the treeline again. “Warg scouts! Which means an Orc pack is not far behind.” 

“Orc pack?” Bella and Bilbo said in unison. 

Gandalf advanced on Thorin threateningly, “Who did you tell about your quest, beyond your kin?”

Thorin looked extremely confused, “No one.” 

“Who did you tell?!” 

“No one, I swear,” Thorin replied, “What in Durin's name is going on?”

Gandalf huffed suddenly, drawing back into himself. Bella couldn’t resist kicking him in the sin in punishment for his silence. He looked at her darkly from under his hat brim. 

“Don’t give me that look,” she snapped, “Answer his question!” She grabbed Bilbo by the hand and yanked him towards her, pulling him into her side. 

The Wizard finally turned back to the dwarf, “You are being hunted!”

“We have to get out of here.” Dwalin growled, shouldering his weapons. 

Ori and Bifur appeared over the hill from where the first warg had come from. They had gone after the ponies when they heard the first howl. 

“We can't!” cried Ori, “We have no ponies, they've bolted!” 

Bifur said something unintelligible in the dwarf language, and all who could understand him felt a hint of fear. (He had caught sight of what was coming after them, you see, and even from a distance there were more than three dozen orcs and wargs that he had counted before coming back down to him.)

Radagast looked at Gandalf determinedly, “I'll draw them off.” 

“These are Gundabad Wargs,” his brother protested, “they will outrun you!” 

The Brown Wizard lit up with a toothy grin stretched across his face. He pointed at his sled with the large dog-sized rabbits.

“These are Rhosgobel rabbits!” Gandalf leveled a glare and Radagast who continued, “I'd like to see them try.” 

Gandalf could do nothing but pull him into an embrace, pressing their foreheads together. He released the Brown Wizard with a shout, and before Bella could truly understand what was going on Radagast and his sled vanished, and they were running. 

“Come and get me!” She could hear the Wizard shouting in the distance, laughter in his voice. For all that he had been terrified only moments before, he sounded exhilarated now. 

Gandalf halted the company at the edge of the forest and they took a temporary refuge behind a large boulder, panting heavily. He peered out from behind it slowly, and watched as Radagast led the warg pack in the other direction. He did not move until they vanished over the hill beyond them. 

“Come on.” 

He darted forward, and the Company had no choice but to follow. Bella continued to hold onto Bilbo, though the younger hobbit was mostly dragging his sister behind him now (after all, he had much longer legs then she did). They couldn’t keep up, and began to fall behind. Bilbo cursed, and Bella yanked on his arm a little. 

(It must be remembered that Bella had been a Sensible hobbit up until several weeks ago, and while Bilbo had the stamina for sprinting thanks to the fact he was a tween Bella did not quite have the same stamina, being that all the exercise she had done up until this point had been walking through the roads of Hobbiton when it suited her fancy.)

“Let go,” she told him, “Run!”

“I’m not leaving you behind,” came the response, “We will go together, or not at all!”

Dwalin had taken his position at the back of the group and was the only one to take notice of the predicament the hobbits were currently in. He hissed under his breath. He slowed his pace just enough to fall in line with them and yanked Bella from Bilbo, throwing her over his shoulder with ceremony or so much as a by-your-leave. 

Bella in this present moment was grateful and resolved not to complain about the hands currently on her person in places they really should not be in polite company. _After all, we’re not in polite company are we? By-your-leaves can wait for once._

Able to run freely now, Bilbo soon caught up with the rest of the dwarves. Bella (even though she was the perfect size for a Sensible Hobbit, even if she didn’t quite have a proper hobbit pooch anymore thanks to the lack of food and the excess of exercise) was incredibly small when compared to dwarves, and so for Dwalin she was no heavier than an extra pack of supplies might have been. He remained at the rear of the group, but they were no longer trailing behind.

Together, they all darted across the rocky plain, weapons drawn. Bella was slightly concerned that with all the bouncing around she was doing the spare axe currently strapped to Dwalin’s back might fly off and decapitate her. _Really though, in our current situation, wouldn’t that be the better way to go?_

They paused for a moment by another outcropping of boulders and rocks. Thorin leaped on top of one in order to be able to see over the hills. He caught sight of Radagast and the orcs, not two miles from them. For all of the Wizard’s effort, they were drawing closer to the Company and not father away as intended. Gandalf pushed past Thorin and caught sight of the chase. He looked behind him, and his eyes glinted in recognition.

“Stay together.” he hissed before vanishing behind the rocks. 

Ori, having been more towards the back of the pack had not realized that they had stopped and darted around the other side of the rocks. Thorin hauled him back by the edge of his cloak and practically threw him towards his brothers. Dori caught him and pushed him to Nori who promptly placed the younger dwarf against the rock and planted himself in front of him. 

Gandalf popped his head around the side, “Come on, quick!” 

Unable to do anything but listen, the dwarves ran in the direction he was pointing. Thorin was the last this time, and turned a look to the Wizard. “Where are you leading us?” Gandalf did not answer and darted away. With a growl, Thorin had no choice but to follow. 

Seeing Radagast at the bottom of the hill, they ran to the next outcropping of rocks and pressed themselves against it. Their breath came in ragged gasps, and Gloin bent over looking as though he might be sick. As he stared at the ground, a shadow crossed over his head. He twisted slightly, and when he caught sight of the orc and warg duo currently standing on the rocks above them he pressed the dwarves behind him roughly into the stone. Following the direction of his gaze, everyone else soon became aware of their predicament and followed suit in trying to meld themselves to the stone. 

Dwalin set Bella down (who by now was very tired of being bounced about and felt rather windswept) and positioned himself in front of her, using his bulk to conceal her. If she had been paying attention (which she wasn’t, but no one can blame her for being preoccupied with current events) she would have noticed Bofur, Bifur, and Bombur, as well as Oin pressing themselves closer to the pair of them until she was quite concealed by dwarves. 

They heard the sound of metal on metal, and knew that the beast had drawn his blade. Thorin turned to Kili, who was standing next to him, and with a jerk of his head he glanced at the younger dwarf’s bow meaningfully. 

Reaching back slowly, he drew an arrow from his quiver and set it on his bow string. He pulled it taught. Quietly as a mouse, Kili sprang into the view of the orc, and before the thing could call out to its fellows there was an arrow sticking out from his eye. Unfortunately, striking the rider did nothing to his mount. Kili loosed another arrow, but this only served to wound the beast and caused it to fall down the rock onto the ground in front of the dwarves. THey all leaped on it, killing it swiftly, but it was too late. It had already let out a cry, and Bella knew their location was given up. They would undoubtedly be overrun in minutes. 

Another orc and his mount sprang at them from the other side of the rock, and they too were slain in short order. Bilbo squirmed through the dwarves to take a place next to Bella, and this time it was he who pulled her close to his side. She saw the look in his eyes, and knew that he had also come to the same conclusion she had. 

“Together, or not at all,” he reminded her. 

The howls grew even louder, and ever closer. Gandalf popped up out of nowhere and jerked on Thorin. “Move. Run!”

Gandalf led the Company forward. Dwalin had taken hold of Bella again, and she was becoming quite accustomed to being treated like a sack of potatoes. They sprinted past rocks, boulders, bushes and trees. In the distance, they could hear orcs coming closer and closer. The dwarves continued to flee from the scouts, until Thorin looked to his left and saw several on the hill watching them. They changed course swiftly, only to pull up short when they realized that there were an equal number of enemies coming from the right. Bella turned her head as best she could, and with a sinking feeling in her stomach she realized they were surrounded. 

“They're coming!” Kili cried. 

“Kili, shoot them! Shoot them down!” 

Bella watched as Gandalf turned in a sharp circle before darting towards a boulder just behind them. He looked down at the bottom of the rock closely, and she observed as he leaned against it in relief. Dwalin turned, and set her on her feet. 

“Stay steady little lass.” he told her. 

She could no longer see Gandalf. 

“We're surrounded!”

Kili began loading and unloading arrows as best he could, taking out an orc here and there. Ori tried to copy him, but with only his slingshot the best he could do was anger the enemy further. 

Kili ran out of arrows and looked around desperately, “Where is Gandalf?”

“Has he abandoned us?” Dwalin growled. 

Thorin shifted his sword in his palm. “Hold your ground!”

Dwalin set Bella back down on the ground, and reluctantly she drew the two short swords that Gandlaf had gifted her. Looking around, she could see that all the others were readying themselves as well. 

_I’m not going to die by the hand of an orc without a fight,_ she thought viciously. 

“This way, you fools!” 

They turned as one to see the head of the Grey Wizard sticking up out of a cave in the ground. “Quickly,” he called out to them.

Well, you didn’t need to tell them twice. One by one, they all began to dive down into the hole. Dwalin pushed Bella and Bilbo in front of him, and they slid down the ground until they reached Gandalf’s feet. Bella stood up, “Master Oakenshield,” she called out, “Come on!” 

Thorin would not come, however. He was King, and he would be last if he managed it. Anyhow, his nephews were both still above ground. “All of you, go, go! Kili! Fili!” 

Fili grabbed Kili by the shoulder and dragged him into the cave. Only once the last dwarf had slid down into the entrance did Thorin finally make his own way down. They finally had a moment to catch their breath, even if it was only for a second. Dwalin moved deeper into the cave, pulling Bella with him, looking for a way out before they were found again. 

They could hear horns in the distance, and they were not the horns of orcs. Swords clashed and the Company could hear arrows being released from their bow strings. They all jumped back as an orc fell down into the cave with them, an arrow buried into his head. Thorin yanked it out and pulled it close to his face to examine it. His nose wrinkled at the foul smell of orc blood, but his forehead wrinkled in anger once he noted the make of the arrow. He dropped it to the ground in disgust and shot a dirty look at the Wizard. 

“Elves.” Bella recoiled from the rancour in his tone. The noises above them faded, and all was quiet.

“I cannot see where the pathway leads,” Dwalin whispered, “Do we follow it or no?” 

“Follow it,” said Bofur, “of course!” The dwarves shuffled forward. 

“I think that would be wise.” Gandalf said under his breath, grinning to himself. 

_He knows something_. Bilbo looked at him, suspicious. 

Dwalin led the dwarves through the narrow gap in the cavern. It was somewhat of hard going, considering how exhausted they were and the fact that they had yet to fully catch their breath. As they walked, sunlight beamed through cracks above them, warming them slightly. They squeezed through the twisting cliffs, each step becoming more and more strenuous. Bella and Bilbo looked around to Gandalf, bewildered. The dwarves, being as tired as they were, were having a harder time. The hobbits, however, felt stronger with each step they took down the path. 

“Gandalf, where are we?” Bilbo asked. 

“You can feel it?” The Wizard looked at the hobbits curiously. 

“Yes. It feels like - well, like magic.” Bella replied, stretching out her hand like one might do if they are trying to catch a snowflake. Warmth pulsed across her palm, and she sighed heavily in relief as all her aches and pains seemed to vanish. She looked to her left and her right, and when she noticed none of the dwarves looking at her she rolled her shoulders back and pushed out with her magic. The warmth soon spread across all of them, and they felt lighter for it. 

“That's exactly what it is,” Gandalf said with a knowing smile, “A very powerful magic.” 

“There is light ahead!” Dwlain shouted, gesturing for the rest of the group to follow. 

They pushed through the final stretch of the pathway and stopped at a ridge, looking below them. Below them is a valley glowing with sunlight, and it is one of the most beautiful sights Bella and Bilbo has ever seen. 

“The Valley of Imraldis. In the Common Tongue, it's known by another name.” 

“Rivendell.” Bilbo whispered. 

The dwarves were not as overcome with awe as the hobbits. Indeed, they were quite angry. Seeing their expressions did not stop Gandalf from continuing to speak.

“Here lies the last homely house east of the sea.”

Thorin wheeled around and glared at Gandalf. “This was your plan all along, to seek refuge with our enemy.” 

Gandalf puffed up in indignation. 

The trouble here, you see, is that Gandalf is a Wizard. Most folk, like Sensible hobbits and the Big Folk who aren’t Wizards are content to listen and obey. It matters not that most of them do it out of fear. What matters is that because they listen and obey Wizard’s are quite used to having their council being the first to be listened to and used. One could possibly say that Wizards are much like spoiled little faunts who are never told no (Lotho Sackville-Baggins comes to mind) and therefore are very used to getting their way. Indeed, their stubbornness can be matched by that of the dwarves (and also that of Belladonna Baggins the Second, and indeed her mother and brother as well), who are not used to taking the council of Wizards when their own is more understood. 

“You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield,” Gandalf said gruffly, “The only ill-will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself.” 

“Ill-will,” Thorin scoffed, “You think the elves will give our quest their blessing? They will try to stop us.” 

“Of course they will. But we have questions that need to be answered. If we are to be successful, this will need to be handled with tact and respect and no small degree of charm, which is why you will leave the talking to me.”

 _Oh dear_ , Bella thought, _we’ll be imprisoned momentarily._


	15. Of Tact, Respect, and No Small Degree of Charm

“Tact,” Bella said, “Charm, respect? You better not talk either then, Wizard, or we’re doomed.” 

Were her eyes deceiving her, or was that a smirk from the dwarf King? 

“Belladonna Baggins, you will be silent.” Well, she had certainly ruffled his feathers. 

The Wizard pushed his way through dwarves and hobbits to the top of the small cliff they were standing on and his way down the hill and into the valley. Exchanging glances, the dwarves reluctantly followed suit, keeping close behind him. They approached the buildings slowly and quietly, and though they were in elvish lands it was very much a relief to not have to run for their lives. 

Every few feet Bella and Bilbo would pause to take in the sites around them, and they were enjoying the feeling of the sun on their faces. 

“Stop acting like a child in a toy-shop,” Thorin finally snapped when he noticed how far behind they were, “Keep up.” 

They jogged for a moment in order to rejoin the group and crossed over a small bridge that led to a lower section of a courtyard. It was here they paused, and for the first time the dwarves truly took in the sites around them. Unlike the hobbits, however, they observed with judgemental eyes. Dwalin nudged Thorin and made a sign with his hands. Thorin nodded. 

“What is it?” Bilbo asked. 

“He’s just commenting on the shoddy workmanship,” Ori responded before turning bright red as he looked ahead. 

Following the gaze of the young dwarf Bella noticed Thorin glaring at him, and she remembered that none in the Company were to speak to either her and her brother. She huffed in frustration. 

“Mithrandir.” 

They turned to see a dark-haired elf dressed in fine robes making his way down the steps towards them. 

“Ah, Lindir!” Gandalf gave a short bow, pressing his hand to his chest. 

The dwarves exchanged low whispers in their secret language, and the hobbits rolled their eyes. 

“ _We heard you had crossed into the Valley._ ” Lindir said, and Bella was astonished to hear that he was speaking Sindarin. (Not that she was surprised an elf could speak Sindarin, mind you, but she had never heard the language fall from the lips of anyone other than herself, her mother, and her brother.) She risked a quick glance out of the corner of her eye, and realized that none of the dwarves could understand the elvish tongue. 

_And some of them royalty, my, what a lacking education._

“I must speak with Lord Elrond.” 

Lindir inclined his head slightly, his expression blank. “My lord Elrond is not here.”

“Not here,” Gandald asked suspiciously, cocking his eyebrow, “Where is he?” 

Suddenly, elvish horns rang out across the courtyard. The dwarves pulled their weapons back out and held them at the ready. Gandalf and Lindir swapped knowing looks, and Bella rolled her eyes grasping Bilbo’s hand tightly. The Company turned in the direction of the sound, which was the path they had just been walking down. A company of horsemen, clearly heavily armed, was riding up at a rapid rate. The dwarves took defensive stances. Noticing the hobbits standing on the outside of the Company, Thorin cursed and reached for them, pulling them towards the middle. 

“Close ranks!” He called out. 

The dwarves formed a ring around the hobbits, who in all honesty felt very squished. The Company raised their weapons as the elves rode into the courtyard. When they caught sight of the dwarves, confused expressions crossed their faces. They circled their horses around the company, and Bella and Bilbo felt very uncomfortable and small in comparison to those now surrounding them. Bilbo pulled Bella up underneath his shoulder. One elf separated himself from the rest of the riders, nudging his horse over to where Lindir and Gandalf were standing. He leaned down in the saddle, clasping the arm of the Wizard. 

“Gandalf.” He greeted joyfully, “Welcome!” 

The wizard bowed gracefully. “Lord Elrond,” he switched back to Sindarin, “ _My friend! Where have you been?_ ”

“We’ve been hunting a pack of orcs that came up from the south. We slew a number near the hidden pass.”

Grasping his robes in one hand and his sword in the other, Elrond dismounted gracefully from his horse. He moved in front of Gandalf and gripped him in a tight embrace. Bella thought she saw the Wizard wince. After they parted, Elrond removed a dirty blade from where it was tied to his waist. It was one of the cursed orc blades. 

“Strange for Orcs to come so close to our borders.” He turned and handed the blade to another member of his company, “Something, or rather someone has drawn them near.” He glanced at the dwarves keenly. 

Gandalf gave him a sheepish smile, “That may have been us,” he allowed. 

Thorin stepped forward, Dwalin joining him on his right, Balin on his left, and Nori not far behind. They were all eyeing the elf lord with distrust and more than a little hate. This did not seem to phase Elrond in the slightest. He bowed shallowly. 

“Welcome Thorin, son of Thrain.” 

“I do not believe we have met.” Came Thorin’s response. Bella and Bilbo both winced. 

Elrond looked him up and down, “You have your grandfather's bearing. I knew Thror when he ruled under the Mountain.”

“Indeed;” Thorin said, examining the elf in a similar manner, “he made no mention of you.”

Bella and Bilbo peered over the shoulders of the dwarves they were concealed behind, and saw that Elrond gave no reaction to the slight he was just offered. Unbinding the bracers clasped around his arms, he motioned his attendants forward. 

“ _Light the fires, bring forth the wine. We must feed our guests._ ” 

Bella could hear the cheekiness and the slight insult in his tone, and realized that they elves understood what she did. The dwarves spoke none of the elvish languages, yet they were content to speak it in front of them in order to ruffle their feathers. Sure enough, all of the dwarves bristled at the supposed threat. Gloin in particular raised both his axe and his voice. 

“What is he saying? Does he offer us insult?” 

“No, you louts, he’s offering us food!” Bella cried, her hunger finally catching up to her. She indignantly placed her hands on her hips and blew several strands of hair _my goodness, I must look a fright,_ out of her face. 

All attention turned to her, and Bella was surprised to see that Lord Elrond looked shocked to catch sight of her. The dwarves parted like water as the elf moved forward into their throng. He knelt down next to her, and she was glad she did not have to nearly break her neck in order to look at him. His hand reached out and touched her cheek.

“Belladonna Took?” he said in wonder, “Long has it been since I laid eyes on you.” 

“Now, sir,” Bella said in discomfort, “I’m not my mother.” 

“Mother?” Elrond asked, looking at her with appraising eyes. His gaze drifted over to Bilbo, and he gave the hobbit lad a short nod. 

“Yes,” it was Gandalf who answered, “Before you stand the two children of Belladonna Took!”

“Baggin, sir. Our mother was a Baggins,” Bilbo couldn’t help but add, frowning at the Wizard. 

Elrond looked saddened as his words. “Was?”

“Our mother died midway through the Fell Winter.” Bella said flatly. 

Gandalf (for all he either suspected or knew of Belladonna Baggins the First demise) let out a low moan of pain at having it confirmed. 

The dwarves (having not known this before) observed both the hobbits with new eyes. Elrond, for his part, closed his briefly against tears that none but him could feel. He laid a heavy hand on Bella and Bilbo’s shoulders. 

“ _Your mother was an elf friend, and often spent time here during her travels. In her name, I bid you welcome._ ” 

Bella nodded solemnly, “ _I thank you for the honor._ ” 

Bilbo sensed that the dwarves were becoming rather incensed not to know what was being spoken, and also further incensed to know that Bella spoke the same tongue (also, he was a tween, and he hadn’t eaten since the night before and it was already nearly dark again since the sun was setting, and he was quite hungry. Starved, in fact.) 

“About that food….” 

The distraction was successful. The dwarves circled together and held a brief conference. Gloin gestured forward once they separated. “Well, in that case, lead on.” 

Bella rolled her eyes. 

“If you would like to refresh yourselves while the food is being prepared, you may follow me.” 

Nodding his ascent, Thorin walked in the direction Elrond was currently going. 

“ _My lady_ ,” called out another elf. 

Being the only female present in the group, Bella turned to see a young she-elf approaching her. “ _If you would come with me, I will direct you to a separate bath._ ” 

Thorin had enough sense to know they were calling for the hobbit lass, but turned and stomped away when he caught sight of her looking at him. Several of the dwarves (Kili, Fili, and Ori in particular) gave her sad looks as they passed her by. Bilbo stood there uncertain, not sure where he should go. Bella clasped his hand in hers, and he leaned down to press their foreheads together.

“Together, or not at all.” she whispered.

“Together, or not at all.” 

“ _May my brother come as well?_ ” 

The elf nodded, and so the Baggins siblings allowed themselves to be led away from their Company and further into the Homely House. She took them to a room which was very large, about the size of the living and sitting room in Bag End. They were surprised to find hobbit sized furniture and a hobbit sized bathtub. Well, it was hobbit sized in that it was built into the floor and easy for them to get into, but it was actually the size of a bedroom itself. 

“ _This room was your mother’s whenever she journeyed here. Now it is yours._ ” 

Other she-elves were already in the room, laying out clothes on the bed and drawing warm water into the bath. They gave warm smiles to the hobbits as they glided past them out of the room. Bubbles were floating on top of the water, and steam was rising from the surface. 

Bella and Bilbo exchanged cheeky glances as the last elf left. 

“Last one in is a rotten egg!” Bella cried, yanking off her shirt and trousers, darting for the tub in nothing but her smallclothes. 

“No fair!”

The room was soon filled with the sound of a water war taking place between two wet hobbits.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elsewhere in Rivendell, Thorin and the dwarves didn’t take the baths in the rooms offered to them. They cleaned themselves to the extent of running warm water over their faces and hands, but many of them were still running on the adrenaline from the chase and could not imagine getting into a bath in case they needed to fight their way out. 

(They of course didn’t need to, but they were dwarves in an elvish realm and they didn’t know that, and if they did they didn’t care.)

Once they were all sorted as much as they would allow themselves to be sorted, they were led from the guest rooms to a balcony where a table had been laid out and heaped with food. They sat down heavily and eyed the feast with consternation. 

Dwalin reached for a bowl and withdrew leaves in his meaty hand. “Where’s the meat?” he demanded. 

Oin held his ear trumpet (it must be noted that he was very quite deaf without it) in one hand and a fork with a speared vegetable in the other. He eyed it with no little amount of disgust. 

Across the table, Dori was heaping more and more food onto Ori’s plate in an attempt to get the younger dwarf to eat something. “Go on, my dear,” he said soothingly, “Just try it. 

“But I don’t like green food,” Ori complained. He looked around the table hopelessly, “Have they got any chips?” 

Behind them they didn’t notice elves exchanging glances as they strummed on harps. Gandalf and Elrond walked onto the balcony in step. 

“Kind of you to invite us,” Gandalf was saying, “I'm not really dressed for dinner.”

Elrond gave his friend a sly glance, “Well, you never are.” 

They both chuckled and made their way to the head of the table. While the dwarves were seated on benches, Big Folk chairs had been produced for the Wizard and the Elf Lord. On the other end, Kili was giving the elf maid playing the harp a sly look. He winked at her suddenly, and she blushed as she looked away. Her eyes widened and she missed the next note, which through all the other musicians off key. 

Everyone turned to see what the commotion was and followed her gaze to the entrance of the balcony. The dwarves let out a collective gasp and Thorin felt his mouth grow dry. 

Bella and Bilbo stood there, staring back at the gazes that rested upon them. The hobbit lass was clothed in a rich blue gown of the finest material, the front of the bodice made with a silver cloth. It looked as if it was molded to her form (which they could clearly see was indeed not that of a male hobbit, indeed, it can be said that very few of the dwarves had ever seen such a thing before, being that dams and dwarrows are more than a little similar). It reached the floor and was draped gently around her waist, but if one looked closely enough they could see bare hobbit toes poking out. Her hair was unbound and flowed freely about her shoulders, still damp from her bath. 

Bilbo was clothed in a similar fine fashion, only he did not have the luxury of borrowing from his mother’s wardrobe (which, you see, was where Bella had found the dress) and so was reduced to wearing the clothes of an elvish child. They fit him well enough, the tunic a faint green that matched his trousers. Both hobbits had their new weapons strapped to their waists. 

They moved to an empty spot at the table and began to tuck in immediately after sitting down. Bella tolerated the stares for a full minute. 

“Haven’t you lot got something else to look at?” She demanded before shoving more salad into her mouth hungrily. 

The music picked back up, and Bella stifled a giggle as she watched Oin stuff his ear trumpet with a napkin before smiling and continuing to eat. 

Elrond was holding Thorin’s sword in his hand, eyeing it critically. He ran his hand up and down the sheath before pulling the blade out for further inspection. His eyes widened as he read the runes on the hilt. 

“This is Orcrist,” he said lowly, “the Goblin Cleaver. A famous blade, forged by the High Elves of the West. My kin. May it serve you well.” 

He handed Orcrist back to Thorin, who accepted with a begrudgingly grateful and respectful nod. Elrond turned to Gandalf, who handed him his own larger blade to continue the inspection. “And this is Glamdring, the Foe-hammer, sword of the King of Gondolin. These swords were made for the goblin wars of the First Age.” 

Bilbo couldn’t help himself from looking down at his own small sword underneath the table. Next to him, Balin gave him a pitying smile and patted his hand lightly. “I wouldn't bother, laddie. Swords are named for the great deeds they do in war.”

Bilbo glared at him. “What are you saying, my sword hasn't seen battle?”

Balin eyed the small blade doubtfully, “I'm not actually sure it is a sword; more of a letter opener, really.”

“Oh leave off,” Bella said crossly, “thought you weren’t supposed to talk to us.” 

Balin turned away with a chuckle, unhurt by her cross words. 

Elrond, Gandalf, and Thorin all missed this exchange, being too occupied with their own. 

“How did you come by these?” Elrond asked, curious. 

“Found them in a troll hoard on the East Road.” Gandalf ignored the hard look Thorin shot him, “Shortly before we were ambushed by orcs.” 

Elrond gave his friend a once over, “And what were you doing on the East Road?” 

“Traveling,” Bella couldn't stop herself from saying, “What else does one do on the East Road.” 

Elrond turned keen eyes upon her, and she squirmed in her seat. 

“Where did the trolls get the swords, I wonder?" said Thorin, taking advantage of Elrond’s momentary distraction. 

"I could not say," said Elrond, "but one may guess that your trolls had plundered other plunderers, or come on the remnants of old robberies in some hold in the mountains of the North. I have heard that there are still forgotten treasures of old to be found in the deserted caverns of the mines of Moria, since the dwarf and goblin war." 

Thorin pondered these words, feeling a heavy weight set on his heart at the mention of the ancient dwarf kingdom. "I will keep this sword in honour," he said. "May it soon cleave goblins once again!"

Elrond’s distracted countenance was only temporary, however. He raised an eyebrow at Gandalf. “Thirteen dwarves and two halflings make curious traveling companions, Gandalf.” 

Bella could be seen to grip her silverware so tightly that her fingers turned white. Bilbo opened his mouth but Bella shook her head. With nothing else to do, he stuffed it full of food. 

“These are the descendants of the house of Durin,” Gandalf replied jovially, ignoring the temper of hobbits, “A noble, decent folk.” Nori shoved a golden candlestick into his outer tunic with a wink at his outraged older brother. “Surprisingly cultured.” Bits of food were spraying out of Bombur’s mouth as he chewed, and an entire meal could be seen in his beard. “They’ve got a deep love of the arts.” 

“Change the tune, why don’t you!” Nori practically screamed at an elf with a harp who stood behind him, “I feel like I’m at a funeral!” 

Oin shoved his ear trumpet (which still had the napkin stuffed in it) back in. “Did somebody die?!” He shouted. 

“Well lads,” Bofur said, “there’s only one thing for it.”

Bella and Bilbo were astonished to see Bofur jump on top of the table with a happy grin across his mischievous face. He began to stomp his feet and all eyes were drawn to him. The dwarves' faces were lit up with anticipation, and the elves were washed with dread. The Company of Thorin Oakenshield began to clap in unison with his stomping foot. Bofur began to sing a cheerful happy tune and soon all of the dwarves were joining him. 

_There is an inn, a merry old inn  
beneath an old grey hill,  
And there they brew a beer so brown  
That the Man in the Moon himself came down  
One night to drink his fill._

_The ostler has a tipsy cat  
that plays a five-stringed fiddle;  
And up and down he runs his bow,  
Now squeaking high, now purring low,  
Now sawing in the middle._

_The landlord keeps a little dog  
that is mighty fond of jokes;  
When there's good cheer among the guests,  
He cocks an ear at all the jests  
And laughs until he chokes._

_They also keep a hornéd cow  
as proud as any queen;  
But music turns her head like ale,  
And makes her wave her tufted tail  
and dance upon the green._

_And O! the rows of silver dishes  
and the store of silver spoons!  
For Sunday there's a special pair,  
And these they polish up with care  
on Saturday afternoons._

_The Man in the Moon was drinking deep,  
and the cat began to wail;  
A dish and a spoon on the table danced,  
The cow in the garden madly pranced,  
and the little dog chased his tail._

_The Man in the Moon took another mug,  
and then rolled beneath his chair;  
And there he dozed and dreamed of ale,  
Till in the sky the stars were pale,  
and dawn was in the air._

_Then the ostler said to his tipsy cat:  
'The white horses of the Moon,  
They neigh and champ their silver bits;  
But their master's been and drowned his wits,  
and the Sun'll be rising soon!'_

_So the cat on his fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle,  
a jig that would wake the dead:  
He squeaked and sawed and quickened the tune,  
While the landlord shook the Man in the Moon:  
'It's after three!' he said._

_They rolled the Man slowly up the hill  
and bundled him into the Moon,  
While his horses galloped up in rear,  
And the cow came capering like a deer,  
and a dish ran up with the spoon._

_Now quicker the fiddle went deedle-dum-diddle;  
the dog began to roar,  
The cow and the horses stood on their heads;  
The guests all bounded from their beds  
and danced upon the floor._

_With a ping and a pong the fiddle-strings broke!  
the cow jumped over the Moon,  
And the little dog laughed to see such fun,  
And the Saturday dish went off at a run  
with the silver Sunday spoon._

_The round Moon rolled behind the hill  
as the Sun raised up her head.  
She hardly believed her fiery eyes;  
For though it was day, to her surprise  
they all went back to bed!_

Thorin stared at Bella with a tightening feeling in his chest. Her eyes were shining, and though she had been feeling very alone (not disregarding her brother of course) she was lit up from the inside out. She was wearing blue. Durin blue. And silver. His colors. He shoved himself back from the table suddenly, unable to bear it any longer. 

“Excuse me,” he said roughly as he stomped off the balcony. 

He didn’t give a care or a glance to the laughter that swiftly faded behind him.


	16. Of Conversations and Nighttime Strolls

Silence is left in the wake of the abrupt exit of the King-In-Exile. Unable to bear it anymore, Bella wheeled on Balin and the rest of the dwarves. 

“Why do you follow him?” She cried out, arms stretching out in question, “He’s rough and cruel and nothing like the King history says he was raised to be. He treats you all like his underlings, he treats me and Bilbo as if we are nothing! I’ve had enough. Such treatment does not deserve your loyalty! Why do you follow him?” 

She whirled on the sons of Dis. “You, I understand. You’re his nephews. I know what familial obligation looks like. The rest of you, I don’t understand. No mountain of gold is worth facing a dragon.” 

“But it’s not just a mountain!” Kilo burst out, “It’s our home.” 

All the rest nodded in agreement. Bella was shocked into silence at the desperation and plea for understanding that could be heard in the young dwarf’s tone. 

“And,” Fili added harshly, “We may have come with our uncle. But we did not come for our uncle. Our mother longs to walk the halls of her home again. She never got the change to, she was a babe when the dragon came.” 

Looking around Bella could see that all the dwarves were staring at her with hurt and no little bit of anger in their eyes. 

“Judge me how you like.” she couldn’t help but snap, feeling confusticated by all the attention they were giving her. 

Bilbo wouldn’t meet her eyes. His face was red. He leaned his head down slightly so that no one would be able to meet his eyes. 

“I’m sworn to Thorin. I’ve been his shield since before he could walk. I’d follow him to the ends of the earth.” 

Bella’s eyes bulged slightly at hearing such an eloquent speech come from the mouth of Dwalin. Balin cleared his throat. 

“We are all kin, lass, in the eyes of Mahal. Thorin has led our people, and done so with honor since the fall of his father and grandfather and the day he took up his mantle as our king.” 

“Aye. Even those of us not of the line of Durin or not in Erebor during the time of the Desolation (or the Great Calamity, different names from different tribes you see) have felt the effects.” Bofur said solemnly. 

“Why, it’s been a curse that has spread. No one has even felt the…” Ori was suddenly cut off as his brothers both simultaneously cuffed him on his ears. He cried out and held his hands over them protectively, and did not speak again. 

Bella resolved to bring this up at a later date. Her anger was slowly draining away. Balin saw the questions that still resided in her expression and sighed. 

“Don't mind him, lass. Thorin is gruff, and brash, and rude, and altogether unkindly at times. We know this. But he of all dwarves has more cause than most to hate orcs and even elves. After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria... but our enemy had got there first. Moria had been taken by legions of Orcs, led by the most vile of all their race, Azog the Defiler. The giant Gundabad Orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin…..”

All of the dwarves had haunted, pained expressions on their faces, and Bella and Bilbo wondered just how many of them had borne witness to the tragedy personally. 

“...He began by beheading the King. Then Thror’s second son Prince Nain fell to his blade. Thorin and his cousin Dain had to watch their grandfather, father (for he sired Dain), and uncle die at the hands of that beast. It was later discovered that young Prince Frenrin (Thorin's brother) had snuck onto the battlefield and also perished. We lost so many that day, and all for naught. Too many orcs. Too few dwarves. Thrain, Thorin's father, was driven mad by grief. He went missing, taken prisoner or killed; we did not know, not even now. We were leaderless, defeat and death were upon us. That is when I saw him; the young dwarf prince facing down the Pale Orc. He stood alone against this terrible foe, his armour rent, wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield... Azog the Defiler learned that day that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken. He was slain by Dain as Thorin distracted him, and at the sight of his head on a dwarven spear grasped by our lord and with our prince, nay, our king standing beside him our forces rallied and drove the orcs back; our enemy had been defeated... but there was no feast or songs that night, for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived and I thought to myself then, _There is one I could follow. There is one I could call King._ ”

All present were affected, those that had been present more than those who had not. Their heads were bowed, and they murmured quiet prayers for the dead in their secret language. Balin turned to his brother; and Dwalin, sensing his need, pressed his bald forehead firmly against that of the shorter dwarf. 

Bella felt a tear trickle down her cheek and turned her head so no one could see. Bilbo knew her best though, and clasped her hand in his below the table, giving it a comforting squeeze. She leaned against his arm and into his touch. 

Nothing else was spoken between dwarves and hobbits that night, and all retired quietly to their rooms within minutes. 

Bella and Bilbo left last, and they did not see the quiet shadow follow them silently to their room. Thorin stood in the darkness of the hall and did not leave until the door closed softly behind them. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bilbo awoke some hours later to a still dark room. Bella was sleepily softly next to him, her hair streaming out across her pillow and the moonlight kissing her sun swept face. He could hear the old biddies in Hobbiton even now, miles away as he was.

_Look at the Mad Baggins, they were saying, off on an adventure and can’t even remember her nightcap or her bonnet._

He scowled slightly. His sister was pretty as a picture even with freckles and sunburn. 

He brushed some hair away from her mouth and pressed a kiss to her forehead. She looked every bit her young years with no worries in her sleep. He slowly slipped out of the bed, careful not to wake her. 

He padded quietly through the hall, trying to shake his restless feeling as he roamed Rivendell. He walked by the occasional elf still awake at the late hour, and nodded respectfully to them, a gesture they would swiftly return. 

He noted one door in particular for hearing a young child crying out in the night. He paused, only to hear what he guessed was the soothing voice of the young child’s mother speaking, and the crying stopped. 

His wandering feet took him to a small, out of the way pavilion nearby where he knew the dwarves to be camped. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a statue, and intrigued by the beauty of it he drew ever closer. The statue itself was not interesting, you see, but the broken sword sitting on the tray it held in its hands was. Above it was painted the terrible history the sword held. 

“The Blade that was Broken,” Bilbo whispered softly. He stretched a hand out to touch it, but drew back when he sensed at his shoulder. He jerked around and swung his arm out only to have his fist caught in a vice like grip. 

His brown eyes met cutting blue ones. 

“Oh dear,” he said, “Terribly sorry about that Mister Oakenshield. Didn’t mean to be a bother.” 

“You’ve been a bother from the beginning,” Thorin replied dryly, “Why stop now?” He glanced behind Bilbo, “Where’s your nursemaid?” 

Bilbo glared at him, “My sister,” he emphasized, “Is asleep, in bed, where she should be right now after the day we had.” 

Thorium shrugged, unconcerned, and began to walk away as majestically as a haughty dwarf could. And Bilbo, well, Bilbo had reached his breaking point. 

“Is it true?” 

Thorium turned a cold stare on him. “Is what true?” 

“That you watched the Pale Orc kill your grandfather and your uncle? That you and your cousin avenged both their deaths shortly afterwards.” 

“Is Balin telling stories again? I told them not to speak to….” 

“I didn’t ask if you told them not to speak to us. We all heard the order. I asked if the Pale Orc really killed your grandfather right there in front of you.” 

Thorin was stunned at the sudden show of spine from the lad. “Yes,” he finally replied, “And he paid for it with his life.” 

Bilbo nodded firmly. “As he should have.” 

The two stood in silence for some moments, unconcerned of the lateness of the hour. 

“Bella had to watch as Mam had her throat torn out.” 

Bilbo's voice cut through the silence. 

To this startling new revelation, Thorin had no response. The dwarf felt his heart leap into his throat, and what words of comfort he thought he might offer to the smaller creature were caught by it. Bilbo stood still as calm water, staring straight ahead of him and looking at nothing. 

“We can heal, sure, but none but the Valar can bring back the dead. The Fell Winter couldn’t affect us in terms of sickness, but those not so well off didn’t have it as good, you see. Da and I were on the other side of the West Farthing healing some of the Bounders that had tangled with some wolves. Mam and Bell were taking baskets of food to some of the poorer folk, and they had ventured close to the Boundary. Too close. I don’t know how the warg was able to cross it, it should have been stopped at the River. But the River was frozen over from the cold, and my only guess is the Magic doesn’t cross ice. Mam was already gone by the time they found them, Bella not far behind. She killed it you know. The warg. Don’t know how, but she did. It had a hole in its head and not far beyond was a stone spear. Don’t know how she threw it, or where she got it but she did throw it, and it was there. I saw it myself. They were out there for days before we found them buried in the snow. Da couldn’t handle it, losing her. He did everything he could to bring Mam back, and when it didn’t work he Faded away within a month and there was nothing I could do.” 

Tears were streaming down his face. 

“I know how you feel, your magesticness. It’s a part of my Gift. I feel your pain, your hopelessness, your despair at being unable to help your people. I know this quest is your last hope. You, a King, even in Exile, and nothing you can do. All this power I hold in my hands, all the good it can do, and still my sister and I weren’t enough for our Da to stay. Papa was a good hobbit, but him and Mam were something else. He couldn’t go on without her. Some days I can’t think of anything better than joining them in the embrace of our Mother. But Bell is here. And she needs me. And I won’t be leaving her, you see. So if she decides to honor our word and follow you to the Mountain, I won’t be far behind. I don’t care what you think about her being a girl, or my not being of age. I’ve been of age since my parents died. She will follow you, and I will follow her, even if you walk us straight off the edge of Arda, if there is such a thing. It’s a promise we made when our parents died. We will go together, sir, or we won’t be going at all.” 

Bilbo had had his say, and was quite done, and quite tired, and quite ready to be done with dwarves for the moment. He began to pad away, but he halted when he caught sight of Lord Elrond and Gandalf on a terrace below them. 

“Well I was always going to tell you our purpose,” Gandalf was exclaiming as they walked by, “You just never gave me the chance! Really now, I think you can trust that I know what I’m doing!” 

The elf and the Wizard paused in front of one of the moonlit fountains. The starlight could be seen glinting off the circlet on Elrond’s brow. Gandalf was without his hat, and Bilbo was struck by how much shorter he looked without the floppy accessory. 

“Do you?” Elrond snapped, “That dragon has been asked for sixty years. It’s been more than one-hundred fifty since the Desolation. What will happen if you fail, if these dwarves of yours wake that wretched beast?” 

“But what if we succeed!” Gandalf cried, “If the dwarves are able to take back the Mountain, then think of how our defensive positions in the east will be strengthened! 

“It is a dangerous move, Gandalf.”

“Well it’s also dangerous to do nothing!” The Wizard exclaimed, turning swiftly to look the elf firmly in the face, “Look here, the throne of Erebor is the birthright of Thorin son of Thrain. Tell me my friend, what is it you fear?” 

Bilbo glanced out of the corner of his eye. Thorin's current expression (which was a reflection of his temper) was Very Not Good. It was as stormy as the Fell Winter and if Bilbo was being honest the anger in the eyes of the dwarf standing next to him was one of the most terrifying things he had ever seen in his short hobbit life. The thing that scared him the most was how calm and cold Thorin was in his anger, even as his hands were white as a ghost as they gripped the handrail on the low wall that was next to him. 

Elrond turned to meet Gandalf’s gaze. “Have you forgotten the strain of madness that runs through that bloodline,” he hissed quietly, “His grandfather lost his kingdom, his people, and finally his own head in his lust for gold and power. His father also succumbed to madness and has not been seen for nearly a century! Tell me, Gandalf, what assurances can you give me not to worry? Can you swear that Oakenshield will not also fall?” 

“Will you at least look at this symbol before you dismiss us, please? I need to know what it means.” 

Gandalf pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to Elrond. The elf glanced at it. 

“It’s the sign of moon runes.” He said shortly, “any document marked with it contains ink and a message can only be read under the light of a specific moon on a specific day. The moon it was written under.” 

“You wouldn’t happen to know what day this symbol refers to, would you?” Gandalf pressed. 

“Midsummers Eve. A crescent moon that has not shone for over two-hundred years. No doubt it was written that long ago.” 

Gandalf’s face fell. 

“Fear not, friend,” Elrond consoled him, “The same moon will shine on us two weeks hence. Take such time to reflect on your actions and the pain they may yet cause.” 

“Do not tell Thorin I have shown you this. Dwarves are a private people. Let him find out in his own time.” 

“As you wish. Though I do not think it wise.”

Gandalf and Elrond continued to bicker, but Bilbo was relieved to find that they were moving on their way and out of earshot. He was very much done with eavesdropping for the night, thank you very much. 

He didn’t spare Thorin a glance as he made his way back to the room he and Bell were sharing. He knew if he looked there would be pity in his eyes, and he also knew Thorin wouldn’t be able to stand it. He lay down quietly and slipped into sleep. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning found Bilbo and Bella wandering through Rivendell, nothing but pure elation written on their faces. Bella was once again in a dress, though it was much simpler then the one from the night before, indeed, much more suitably hobbitish. They noted that Rivendell was a larger, more compact, more grand version of the Great Smials where their grandfather resides and rules as Thain of the Shire. Peaceful smiles graced their expressions. Bird twittered past them, and Bella held out her finger. 

One small blue jay perched there for a moment, twittered nervously, and pecked her before flying away. They stopped at a balcony in the center of the great place, and hearing loud and rambunctious laughter they looked down to see the dwarves below them. They appeared to be playing a rather loud game of tag, and though the elves around them looked very much put out at the noise they couldn’t help but smile at the carefree attitude being displayed. Bella privately wondered when the last time they laughed like that, and guessed it was quite a while. She sighed deeply and stared down at them. Bilbo glanced at her wistfully. 

“Not with your companions?” 

The sin kings turned to see the Lord of Rivendell directly behind them. 

“No, shan't be missed.” Bella said.

“The truth is that most of them don't think we should be on this journey.” Bilbo added with a backwards glance at the galavanting group. 

“Indeed? I've heard that hobbits are very resilient.”

“Really?” Bilbo said none too eagerly. 

Elrond nodded slyly. “I've also heard they're fond of the comforts of home.” 

Well, Bella knew exactly where he had heard that from. Well, if the elvish Lord could tease, so could she. “I've heard that it is unwise to seek the council of elves, for they will answer with yes and no.”

Bilbo froze in shock at his sister's audacity. _Of all the people in Arda to sass, why does she insist on sassing elvish Lords and dwarf Kings? And of all the sisters in Arda who would sass Lords and Kings, why did it have to be mine? I’m going to have grey hair on my toes before I’m thirty!_

Elrond looked down at Bilbo wryly out of the corner of his eye and the hobbit felt very much like the elf Lord could tell exactly what he was thinking. He let out a nervous chuckle, which soon became full blown laughter at the smile that stretched across Elrond’s face. Bella did nothing but smirk at them both. 

Elrond’s smile faded just a little and he looked at both hobbits fondly, “You are always welcome to stay here, if that is your wish.” He glided away, not waiting for either of them to answer. 

Bella would be lying if she did not think about accepting his offer. Indeed, only a fool would not consider it. Here, she watched the setting sun glint across the buildings and the water and the trees. There were hobbit sized things for them, and clothes, and food, and happiness in abundance. She could make a nice life for her and Bilbo here. 

But she knew in her heart of hearts that it was not to be. It was nice for a visit, sure, but no Sensible hobbit (for this was something a part of her would always be) could live among the Big Folk for very long and be happy. She saw some of the glances that Sensible sized folk received, even here among the elves. She and Bilbo were an oddity, and she was very much done with being an oddity. No, she and Bilbo belonged with those other creatures that had the sense not to be too tall, and that was that. 

After all, she had made a promise, and what was the word of a Baggins hobbit worth if they did not keep their promises? 

Even though she was determined to follow Thorin Oakenshield, for all that he was a very pig headed and stubborn (read: handsome and dreamy) thing to put up with, she was also determined that he should not know this until it was too late to stop them. 

Bilbo agreed. 

So they kept to themselves, slept separately, and sometimes even ate separately. This they did for three days before It happened. The Incident. The Thing that would be talked about for many years to come. 

Bella was walking. The dwarves were bathing. Bella just so happened to be walking on a balcony above the fountain where the dwarves were bathing. It was late. She was already dressed for bed in a frilly white nightgown. 

There was a spider. If you were to ask Bella, it was bigger than her head and Bilbo’s put together. It was the size of all of Arda combined. As it was, disregarding size, it gave her the fright of her life (spiders and hobbits don't mix, if you remember.) it gave her such a fright that she screamed, scrambled back, and fell right over the balcony into the fountain. 

She came up spluttering. 

_Oh, by the **Mother.** _


	17. Of Understandings

Well. That was certainly an eyeful. Several eyefuls. Several eyefuls that quite frankly and thoroughly damaged every one of her stuffy, hobbitish sensibilities. 

They were very mostly naked, though some of them were more out of view than the others. Which was all well and good. Now, Bella was not a complete and total saint. It was not considered odd for tweens to vanish into Farmer Maggot’s barn or behind his haystacks, nor was it unusual for tweens and some of the younger hobbit adults to venture down to the river for a bit of a splash together as a group. But for all that she had experienced in her very short life, Bella was still quite innocent when it came to hobbit lads, and she was particularly innocent when it came to dwarrows. 

She had never thought she would see Kili, Bofur, and Gloin directly in front of her in their never-you-minds and it was a sight and experience she was not sure she was willing to repeat over again. While she may have blushed more than a little from her eye catching many of the splendidly hairy, broad, muscular chests of the dwarves none of the hobbit lads look like that she soon realized that many of the dwarves were looking at her like she had grown an extra head. 

She looked down. _Oh dear._

While she wasn’t naked, she might as well have been. She was currently giving all of the males in the present company a very nice show if she did say so herself. Bella was not terribly thrilled about how she looked. Her nightdress had become shear when it got wet, and her smalls were on a rather robust display. She may have been one of the smaller hobbits in the Hobbiton (she of course covered this fact up with extra layers and petticoats to keep the biddies from wagging their tongues too much) but she was still very curvy. Very curvy indeed, even with her binding clothes done up as tight as was comfortable and the short breeches she had on plastered roughly to her skin. 

Bella determined that the best course of action for the present time and company was a strategic retreat. So thinking, she stood up quite slowly. She would not allow herself to cover up in front of the dwarves. She may be blushing from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, but she had enough sense to know that they had already seen the display, and covering up would more than likely only cause further embarrassment in the future. No, it was best to treat them like the biddies in Hobbiton. Act like they don’t bother you, and they won’t bring it up again. 

The dwarves for their part were very much frozen where they stood. Bombur was perched on a tree branch above him, looking very agile for his great size. Fili, Kili, Ori, and Nori seemed to be playing a game of chicken, with each of the younger brothers being perched on the shoulders of their siblings. Thankfully the four of them still had small-clothes on covering their bits, and they were also mostly covered by the water. Dwalin was standing just outside the fountain, having not yet gotten in. Balin’s bum was a sight she would not forget for the rest of her life, for the eldest dwarf was currently in the process of taking off his smalls. Oin was lounging in the upper half of the fountain, or at least he had been before she fell in. As it was, he was laying back with his legs thrown over the side of the upper pool, his ear trumpet thankfully saving her from catching sight of his never-you-mind. Gloin however was standing directly above her, unable to keep the proud grin off his face when he realized how far her jaw had dropped. Dori was seated next to Oin just behind Gloin, thankfully mostly covered and concealed by the latters legs. She could feel two presences next to her, and glancing off to both sides she realized that she had landed directly between Bifur and Bofur, Bifur being very thankfully seated in the water and Bofur standing next to him on the outside of the fountain, still mostly dressed, for he hadn't yet dropped his trousers. 

She backed up slowly. “Well, it’s been lovely,” she managed to snark, “But as this was a rather unplanned visit I rather think I should be heading off to bed now. Bed. Yes. That sounds wonderful. By myself. Bed. Indeed. I rather think I’d like a large...long...bebother and confusticate it, I want a decent sized nap...without dwarves….indeed...I’ve had quite an eyeful...enough of dwarves today I think.” 

She looked down, stood up, and tried to step backwards out of the fountain. She misjudged the distance, however, and was about to fall quite firmly on her wet, prim hobbit bottom. She would have fallen, that is, if she had not hit a warm rock first. 

_Wait..Rocks don’t breathe._

Even though she very much didn’t want to, she chanced a glance back and the dwarves and counted them swiftly. 

Ori, Dori, Nori, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Kili, Fili, Oin, Gloin, Dwalin, Balin…. _oh dear sweet Mother._

Meanwhile, Bilbo, having heard his sister scream (for he had not been far behind her) came running down the steps to the terrace that held the fountain. He drew up short, however, at the sight of his very wet older sister being held in the arms of a very large and very naked, _Goodness, is that all him?_ Dwarf King. 

Thorin suddenly found his naked self with an armful of wet lady hobbit. Though she was as slippery as a seal in her current state of dress (or undress, however you would prefer it) he clutched her to his chest with steady hands. 

Being pressed against a warm chest that was harder than rock was not in her calender for events that would take place today. Bella tilted her head back slightly on his shoulder to gaze up at him. Thorin met her eyes steadily. There was something in them that made her blush even deeper and hot. His gaze looked rather like a hungry hobbit faunt who had missed elevensies and was staring at his luncheon when his Mama told him to wait until everyone was seated. Bella knew this look, for she and Bilbo had often sported it themselves. Why Master Oakenshield (for she must always remember that he was indeed Master Oakenshield at the very least, and His Majesty at the very best, for he was a king and she just a hobbit) had that look in his eyes she didn’t know, but it was there and it made her squirm in a most unladylike fashion. 

“Well, Miss Baggins, if you were that desperate to join our company, you could have just said so. There was no need to throw yourself off of a balcony.” 

Did her ears deceive her, or was that sass coming from the dwarf King? Did that confusticated male just dare to give her cheek!

“Bit hard to join what I’m already a member of,” she quipped back, unable to stop herself, “After all, whatever you may say or think, I’ve signed the contract.” 

“And a Baggins keeps their word,” he finished. 

She nodded decidedly before remembering the current state she was in. 

“Well lads,” she ignored the indignant cries from Fili and Kili, “I think that’s quite enough, don’t you.” 

The dwarves came to life, and grinned at her and at each other. They had not been frozen because they were embarrassed about themselves, you see, but you must remember that lady dwarves (dams) look nothing like lady hobbits. While they may not be a private people with each other, bosoms such as those of Belladonna Baggins the Second were most definitely in a very short supply in all the dwarf kingdoms. 

“Bell,” Bilbo called out. 

She looked over at him. He was standing on the stairs with his hands on his hips. “Well, if you’re done with your bath, sister, I’m hungry and it’s time for a late night snack.” 

They all laughed, and Bella was grateful that Bilbo was trying to distract and at the same time not mention the current situation. 

“Well, your Madge, I’d like to be set down now.” 

Thorin didn’t listen, and only hefted her higher, placing her onto his shoulder. She resisted the urge to look down. He strode over to Bilbo, and placed Bella in the outstretched arms of her brother. 

“If you’ll join us just as soon as you are able, we’ll be having our late night snack once we’ve finished here.” 

Bilbo nodded briskly, and threw Bella over his shoulder uncaring of how damp she was currently making his clothes. Bella let out peals of laughter as she bounced up and down as Bilbo let out a short bow. 

“Till later then,” said the hobbit lad, pointedly not looking at anyone’s never-you-minds and keeping his eyes firmly fixed forward. (Privately, he would allow himself to admit that he had snuck a rather academic peak down below, and was thankful that he was perfectly proportioned in ways the dwarves seemed to have excess in. He didn’t think he wanted to have to sew another leg into his trousers.)

Bilbo turned and Bella planted her gaze firmly on the floor as he bounded up the stairs. (Again, privately she would admit to taking several academic peaks, but who could blame her?)

In short order, all were dry, and dressed, and present on the balcony the dwarves had claimed as their own for the duration of their stay. Bella and Bilbo had entered to rather saucy winks and gestures. She was grateful to not see Thorin. She didn’t quite know what to say or do if she did. One moment she was nearly his worst enemy, the next a childish thing, and now he invited them for snack? It was altogether very confusing, but she figured she could ponder it out later. After late-night snack. 

“Did you enjoy the view?” Nori asked cheekily.

She turned a haughty gaze on him, allowing herself to channel Lobelia Sackville-Baggins for just a moment. She quirked her eyebrow at him. “What view?” she asked, “There was nothing there to see!” 

Nori accepted the tease with grace as all around him the dwarves burst into laughter. 

The dwarves had a roaring fire going, and they had all dug into their packs to bring out what vittles they had left. To their great happiness, Bombur drew out several rolls of sausages. 

“You’re different from all the dams back home.” Kili said as they sat down to eat. 

She took the sausage and stick he offered her and stuck it over the fire to cook. 

“Well, I should hope I’m different. I’m a hobbit, not a dwarf.”

Bilbo stuck his sausage out over the fire next to her. 

“Why are you being nice to us now?” he asked curiously. Bella stiffened slightly. 

“Thorin just didn’t know what to make of you before,” Balin said steadily, “But none of us did. We know it’s not our fault though, and it can all be laid at the feet of Tharkun.” 

“Meddlesome Wizard.” Bella couldn’t help but hiss, and all the dwarves nodded in agreement. 

“There’s no point in not talking and being friendly,” Bofur added, “We did travel together for several weeks.” 

He glanced up, and saw how Bombur was holding all his food tightly to his chest. The little elvish bench he was sitting on was groaning under the weight of the fat dwarf. 

“Here Bombur!” 

He threw another sausage at his brother. Bombur caught it in his mouth just as the bench beneath him decided it had finished serving his purpose and cracked beneath. Bombur fell backwards with a shout, landing roughly on his large bottom. Everyone broke out in rambunctious laughter at the sight. 

One by one they grew silent, but it was a good type of quiet, the type that comes from good food and company. Thorin swept into the room without a care, but all were full and tired and none reacted to his sudden presence. They were all leaning over against one another, or laying down, or just sitting comfortably with their snack. Bella was leaned against a pillar, Bilbo fast asleep in her lap. His sausage was still clutched in his hand. 

Thorin reached over Kili and drew a cloak from his nephew’s pack. He threw it over the hobbits, and Bella gave him a grateful nod of her head. 

He sat himself next to her as quietly as he could. “Elrond has asked to meet with me several days from now, later in the evening. I suspect the Wizard has told him about our map and his purpose in leading us here.” 

Bella began stroking her brother’s hair lightly. 

“I don’t pretend to like this,” Thorin admitted, “I don’t like the idea of a young thing like you joining us,” Bella opened her mouth to protest but stopped when Thorin put up his hand, “No, let me finish. Dams-women-are to be guarded like treasure, for there are so few of them. They are precious to us. But I am a King, and I know that other races do not hold you in such a high regard. I do not like this, and I would order you to stay, forbid you from coming. But I am also smart enough to know that you would follow us if I did.” 

Bella’s sheepish smirk was all he needed for an answer. Her hand stopped its stroking. Bilbo was well and thoroughly put to sleep. 

“So here is my proposal,” he continued somewhat roughly, mindful of the snoring hobbit lad, “You will begin training with Dwalin here, and every time we stop. I’ll not have the Company risking their lives to protect you. You’ll both learn to wield those little toothpicks of yours.” 

She turned her nose up primly, “I’ll have you know they are letter openers, your Gruffness.” 

He couldn’t help but grin slightly. 

“Letter openers then. Your contract is binding, as you say it is. I may have threatened to break it, but I will not dishonor either you or myself with such an action. We retake Erebor or die trying. But I must tell you, as I told Gandalf, I won’t be held responsible for your fate.” 

“Well it’s a good thing that I’m responsible enough for the both of us, your Madge.” 

“I still say you should go home. Creatures such as yourself have no place out here.” 

“Well, it’s a good thing it’s our choice, then, isn’t it. Goodnight, sir.” 

She closed her eyes, done with it all. _Confusticated dwarf._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sure enough, several days later they were summoned to Lord Elrond’s private chambers. Well, Thorin was summoned. They just tagged along at his request. Bella and Bilbo were covered with bruises and were sore in areas that had not previously known they were in possession of thanks to the rigorous training regime Dwalin was putting them through. 

Gandalf frowned when he saw Balin, Bilbo, and Bella. Thorin eyed Elrond with nothing less than pure resentment in his eyes. 

“That map contains moon runes,” Gandalf was saying, “Or I’m not a Wizard. Lord Elrond has consented to read them for you.”

He reached out his hand only for Thorin to draw back. 

“Our business is no concern of elves.” Thorin bit out. 

“For goodness sake, Thorin, show him the map.”

“It is the legacy of my people; it is mine to protect, as are its secrets.” 

Elrond, in all his wisdom, was also a leader and so understood the turmoil that was coursing through the veins of the King-in-Exile. 

Gandlaf, in all his meddlesomeness, knew and didn’t care because it didn’t serve his purpose. “Save me from the stubbornness of dwarves. Your pride will be your downfall. You stand here in the presence of one of the few in Middle Earth who can read that map. Show it to Lord Elrond!” 

Thorin stared at the Wizard for several long moments. Balin was eyeing the two Big Folk with harsh contempt. Bilbo was trying to appear small and unassuming. Bella was glaring at Gandalf, not knowing what else to do. Reluctantly, Thorin drew the map out of his coat. 

“Thorin, no!” Balin cried, reaching for the thin sheet of paper. 

Thorin pushed his hand away with a sharp look. Balin could do nothing but bow his head and take a step back. Thorin held the map out to Elrond, who reached to take it. His hand stopped an inch shy, striking some invisible barrier. All the males noted they could see a faint gleam in the corner of their eyes. They turned, and realized that the gleam was coming from Bella. Her hands were clenched tightly. 

“I’ve had enough of meddlesome Wizards. You would rob him of his secrets, his dignity, whatever you please as it suits you, and give no warning or a by-your-leave?”

“Bella, my dear,” 

“Don’t you ‘my dear’ me, Wizard. I am not your child. My parents are dead and gone, and I am an adult in my own right. And I am quite tired of being the subject of your whims. We may be smaller than you, but we are not your pawns.” 

“Miss Baggins,” Thorin said, “I thank you for the show of loyalty. But the map must be read, and the elf is the only one here who can read it.” 

She stared at him for a moment, and with a muttered word his hand fell open without his consent. Another word, and Bella was suddenly holding the parachament. 

“I don’t pretend to understand your hatred of elves, your Madge,” she said, flipping the paper in her hands, “But I understand that this is something you do not want.” 

Elrond was eyeing the hobbit with interest. 

Gandalf was growing fed up with the hobbit lass. Just like all those days ago in Bag End, he suddenly seemed to grow very tall and very dark. His voice echoed all throughout the open chamber. “Belladonna Baggins,” he cried darkly, “You will give Lord Elrond that map, he is the only one here who can read Ancient Dwarvish.” 

Elrond glanced down at the map, “Erebor. What is your interest in this?” 

_Oh, as if he doesn’t know._ Bella narrowed her eyes at the elf. “Academic,” she quipped, “And as for being able to read Ancient Dwarvish, all you had to do was ask.” 

Gandalf gaped at the little thing across the room from him. Indeed, all but Bilbo were staring at her. “Mother gave us a good education.” 

“You can read it?” Thorin asked in wonder.

Bella nodded, making her way to an outcropping of a balcony that she could see on the end. The rest of them followed close behind. This part of Rivendell was built into a low mountain, and the balcony in this particular room was just an outcropping with a raised rock in the middle. The rock was circular, and would serve its purpose as a table for this task. Moonlight streamed across it, and Bella hoped it would be enough. She held the map up to the light, and a wide smile stretched across her face as writing appeared. She glanced at Thorin, a question in her eyes, and he nodded at her shallowly.

“Stand by the gray stone when the thrush knocks, and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the keyhole.”

“Durin's Day?” Bilbo asked. 

“It is the start of the dwarves' near year,” Balin replied, “when the last moon of autumn and the first sun of winter appear in the sky together.” 

Thorin’s face fell slightly, “This is ill news. Summer is passing. Durin's day will soon be upon us.” 

“We still have time.” Balin consoled.

“Time? For what?” Elrond queried, though he knew the answer. 

“To find the entrance. We have to be standing at exactly the right spot at exactly the right time. Then, and only then, can the door be opened.” Balin rocked back on his feet.

“So this is your purpose,” Elrond demanded, “to enter the Mountain?” 

“What of it?” was Thorin’s response.

“It’s rather foolish to pretend,” Bella added, “It’s obvious you knew what we were about from the moment we arrived.” 

Elrond shrugged, “There are some who would not deem it wise.”

Bella stretched out her hand and gave Thorin back his map. She drew back suddenly, and BIlbo was shocked to see that her eyes were out of focus. He gripped her shoulder, but she didn’t respond. The only other one to notice was Thorin, and he shot a worried look at the younger hobbit. 

_Leave now,_ a gentle voice whispered, dancing across her mind, _he will stop you otherwise._

Bella came back to herself, blinking heavily. The whole exchange had lasted less than a second. 

“What do you mean?” Gandalf was asking. 

“You are not the only guardian to stand watch over Middle Earth.” Elrond said gravely. He motioned for Gandalf to follow him before sweeping up some stairs to their right. Gandalf gave Bella a knowing look before he walked after the Elf. 

She looked up at Thorin. “We have to leave now, Master Oakenshield,” she said hurriedly, “Or we won’t be leaving at all.”


	18. An Interlude: An Excerpt from the Journal of Ori, son of Kori, Lore Keeper of the Quest of Erebor

Let it be known that on this day in the year of the Third Age 2941, Dwalin Son of Fundin has lost a duel to a pair of unarmed hobbits in the halls of Rivendell. 

When asked how exactly they were able to beat the Head Guardman, they responded, “Mama spent the better part of her life before she married Da traveling all across Arda. Of course she taught us how to fight folks Bigger than us.” 

Let it also be known that while they only succeeded in knocking him down once (they admitted to being very rusty and unpracticed) Dwalin was heard to tell his older brother that all they needed was proper training and a daily routine and he would hire them himself. 

This is a historic day. Dwalin never likes anyone. I do believe I also saw the eye of the King twitch slightly. 

Signed Ori, son of Kori


	19. Of Thunder Battles

Bella and Bilbo couldn’t help but look back down the mountain trail as they crested the peak above The Last Homely House. Rivendell could be seen glistening in the distance. Moonlight gleamed off the buildings, though they could see the sky was beginning to lighten in preparation for the coming dawn. 

_Thorin had, thankfully, not questioned her when she demanded they leave immediately. Indeed, he had scrambled in his haste to get everyone up and about and gone. As they snuck through the halls, Bella had felt the gentle touch breeze across her mind once more. She had turned briefly, and caught sight of the most beautiful creature she had ever seen in all her life. The elf was lithe, and glowed, and glided past the hall they were hiding down alongside Lord Elrond, Gandalf, and a Wizard in white that they did not recognize. Bella would later swear that the creature winked at her as they passed, as if she knew exactly where the Company stood frozen until they disappeared down the hall._

Bilbo grasped Bella’s hand tightly. She turned to him, and was struck by the naked fear that was written across his face. For the first time, she stopped and thought about what she was honestly doing. Signing the contract had been one of the most Tookish choices of her life, but she had always been the least Bagginsy hobbit in Bag End (excluding her mother of course). Bilbo had always been much more settled than she had. He was so young. They had lost so much. And now here she was, dragging him halfway across Arda. He was just a tween, even if he was taller than she was. She was barely an adult. What were they thinking? 

She squeezed his hand, more for her own comfort than for his. 

“Look what’s behind us,” he whispered, “And all the world ahead.” 

“If you want to stay,” Bella replied, “We can go back now. I’ve never asked you what you wanted, not in all of this.” 

“I want a home. And for all the beauty and comfort Rivendell holds, it’s not our home.” 

She laid her head on his shoulder, and wrapped her arms around his middle. “I’ll make you a home.” she promised. 

“My home is with you. Together, or not at all.” 

“Together, or not at all.” 

He kissed her forehead gently. “Maybe even inside a mountain, if his Royal Gruffness is so inclined to let us stay.”   
As if he could hear himself being talked about, Thorin turned just at that moment and noticed that his two burglars were lagging behind the rest of the group. 

“Halflings,” (Bella and Bilbo winced), “I suggest you keep up. We are about to step over the edge and into the wilds. Balin, you know these paths best. Lead on.” 

“Aye, Thorin.” The older dwarf replied. 

There were many paths that led up into those mountains, and many passes over them. But most of the paths were cheats and deceptions and led nowhere or to bad ends; and most of the passes were infested by evil things and dreadful dangers. The dwarves and the hobbits, led by Balin who had walked this path before, took the right road to the right pass. 

Long days after they had climbed out of the valley and left the Last Homely House miles behind, they were still going up and up and up. It was a hard path and a dangerous path, a crooked way and a lonely and a long. Now they could look back over the lands they had left, laid out behind them far below. Boulders, too, at times came galloping down the mountain sides, let loose by midday sun upon the snow, and passed among them (which was lucky), or over their heads (which was alarming). The nights were comfortless and chill, and they did not dare to sing or talk too loud, for the echoes were uncanny, and the silence seemed to dislike being broken except by the noise of water and the wail of wind and the crack of stone.

The days were tiring, but the truth was the nights were the worst. It had begun to storm, you see, and more often than not the Company made camp in wet bedrolls, trying to sleep as much as they could. Bella had the worst. The others were thankfully able to sleep, but all she could do was dream. 

_White. Cold. Wet. The wind screaming in the distance. A roll of thunder, only it wasn’t thunder. IT was the sound of a warg running, feet pounding. The Barrier would protect them, Mama said. Only it didn’t. Blood, pain, claws raking down her leg. Her mother screamed. The lightning flashed. Blood on the snow. Belladonna’s unseeing eyes. The scream she let out was one of rage, and pain, and power. The earth cracked beneath her feet. A spear formed out of rock suddenly in her hand. She screamed again. The warg was dead. White. Cold. Wet. Pain. Cold._

_Bilbo’s voice._

_Safe._

_Papa gone._

_I can’t protect him._

_I have to keep him safe._

She didn’t make a sound when she dreamed, but those on watch knew something was wrong. She twitched far too much, and the circles under her eyes only grew darker with each passing day. They didn’t know how to address it, however, and aside from several exchanged glances, they let it lie. And so they went on.

Bella and Bilbo knew that something unexpected might happen, and they hardly dared to hope that they would pass without fearful adventure over those great tall mountains with lonely peaks and valleys where no king ruled. They did not. All was well, until one day they met a thunderstorm more than a thunderstorm, a thunder battle. You know how terrific a really big thunderstorm can be down in the land and in a rivervalley; especially at times when two great thunderstorms meet and clash. More terrible still are thunder and lightning in the mountains at night, when storms come up from East and West and make war. It was Balin in all his wisdom who finally realized what was really going on. 

“This is no storm, it’s a thunder battle! Look!”

The lightning splinters on the peaks, and rocks shiver, and great crashes split the air and go rolling and tumbling into every cave and hollow; and the darkness is filled with overwhelming noise and sudden light. Bilbo had never seen or imagined anything of the kind. They were high up in a narrow place, with a dreadful fall into a dim valley at one side of them. There they were sheltering under a hanging rock for the night, and he lay beneath a blanket and shook from head to toe. When he peeped out in the lightning flashes, he saw that across the valley the stone giants were out and were hurling rocks at one another for a. game, and catching them, and tossing them down into the darkness where they smashed among the trees far below, or splintered into little bits with a bang. 

“Well, bless me!” Bofur had to shout to make himself heard, “The legends are true! Giants; stone giants!”

Then came a wind and a rain, and the wind whipped the rain and the hail about in every direction, so that an overhanging rock was no protection at all. Soon they were getting drenched and their ponies were standing with their heads down and their tails between their legs, and some of them were whinnying with fright. They could hear the giants guffawing and shouting all over the mountainsides. They couldn’t stay, and they really couldn’t move, and they had no choice but to continue on.

"This won't do at all!" said Thorin. "If we don't get blown off or drowned, or struck by lightning, we shall be picked up by some giant and kicked skyhigh for a football. Hold on!"

The dwarves carefully made their way across the ridge, half-drowned in the rain. Above them, boulders rained down onto the mountain side as the stone giants fought. The Company pressed forward, until the path was only two feet across and they had to hug the rockface to stay on it properly. The boulders continued to smash and break into smaller pieces, and those smaller pieces crashed into the path, chipping it away piece by piece. Such a thing occurred right in front of Bilbo, who would have fallen had Dwalin not reached out to catch him. Bella pulled him just behind her and pressed against him, as if her very presence would keep him safe and secure. 

“Master Oakenshield,” she called to the front of the line, “I don’t think we should remain in this spot any longer.” 

“No,” Thorin agreed, “We must find shelter!”

Bofur pointed up, looking at something in the distance. They all followed his finger and gasped. 

“Look out!” 

The largest boulder they had ever seen hurtled through the air. It hit the mountainside above the dwarves, sending rocks crumbling down around them as they pressed themselves ever closer against the mountain. Bella pushed her face into Bilbo’s shoulder and screamed out in fear, but the truth was not even her brother could hear her cry over the noise the stone giants were making with their temper tantrum. 

The stone giant threw another rock across the valley. It crashed into the second stone giant, who was currently rising from the mountainside. The dwarves could only watch, and realized that they were quite caught in the middle. 

“Take cover,” Thorin shouted down the line, “you'll fall!”

Debris began to fall over the Company once again. The edges of the path continued to chip away as more and more larger rocks fell down the mountain side as the bits of boulders broke off. Dwalin (who was standing next to Bella and Bilbo) pressed the hobbits back with his arm and held them as best he could. Bofur was on the other side of them, and pressed his back against their front, trying to keep them as far away from falling as possible. 

The dwarves held onto the mountainside as the ground beneath them cracked and split, separating them, cutting the Company in half. 

“What’s happening?” Kili demanded. 

His brother was on the other side of the crack, and was drifting away from him slowly as he desperately eyed the drop between them. 

“Kili, grab my hand! Kili!” 

But it was too late. The crack was at least ten feet wide now, and the only way to reach them was through a very uncomfortable fall. That is to say, there was no way to reach them. 

Fili, Oin, Gloin, Bilbo and Bofur were the ones on the other side of the crack. The only problem was that it wasn’t a crack, you see. It was a knee. The dwarves and hobbits had found themselves standing on the knee of a third stone giant, who was very much upset at being bruised and battered by the tantrum its fellows were currently throwing. The little folk could only watch in horror as the newest addition to the party turned to the giant behind it, headbutting it violently. 

The members of the Company currently not being thrown around by the fighting of the bigger creatures were able to find a more stable section of the path to move down towards. 

“Bilbo,” Bella cried, trying to reach for her brother. It was no use. 

She and Thorin watched in horror as the giant carrying their family was very thoroughly punched and fell forwards, smashing those on its knee into the mountain side. 

“NOOOOOO!” Bella screamed, and the dwarves had never heard a sound like it. 

“FILI!” Thorin’s voice joined hers. 

Thorin of course was at the front of the line, and he was the first to run around the corner. HIs instinct was to turn around and clasp Bella to his chest to spare her the sight of the inevitable blood and gore, but to his relief there was no need. His breath flew out of him with a shudder and he had to lean against the mountain to stay upright. 

Dwalin came up behind him and let out a joyful shout, “It’s alright, they’re alive!”

Bella ran up behind the both of them and was very relieved to see the missing members of the Company piled up on a ledge. The sounds of fighting faded, for now all the stone giants were in pieces scattered all around the mountain. But wait…

“Where’s Bilbo?” she asked, looking around Thorin.   
“Where is our hobbit?” Bofur added. 

He peaked over the edge, shocked to find Bilbo dangling off the edge of the cliff. 

“There!”

“NO!”

Bella and Bofur scrambled down onto their stomachs, leaning over the edge and trying to reach for the young hobbit. Ori joined them, but it was no use. Bilbo was slowly slipping further and further from their reach. 

“Reach!” 

“Grab my hand Bilbo!”

Bella felt herself growing desperate, and hot, and it hurt. She screamed, a desperate cry, and all of a sudden something burst out of her. A small foothold grew beneath Bilbo’s scrambling toes, and though he was still hanging off the ledge he at least had something to brace him as he tried to get back onto the path. Bella sagged against the rock, and Ori had to pull her back so she wouldn’t fall as well. 

“Well go on,” Gloin said, “Get the hobbit!” 

But Bilbo had fallen farther then they could reach, and he himself couldn’t reach up without fear of falling even more (or indeed, falling to his death). The dwarves clamored around the cliff, trying to pull him up. Thorin was the one to finally save him, for he swung down on the cliff next to Bilbo. He grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, and with a grunt he boosted him up enough for Bofur and Dwalin to grab him. They hauled him onto the ledge. 

As soon as they had him in hand, Thorin slipped, and would have been lost if not for Dwalin catching him. He gave his cousin grateful look as he allowed himself to be pulled back up to the path. 

Everyone sat back for a minute, panting heavily.

“I thought we'd lost our burglar.” Dwalin said to break the silence. 

Thorin turned a cold eye to both hobbits. Bella was clutching Bilbo in her lap, brushing his hair back and whispering calming words into his ear (although whether the words were meant for him or for her, I couldn’t be sure). 

They almost both died. Thorin thought. 

“That halfling’s been lost ever since he left home. He should never have come. Neither of them. He has no place amongst us.” He ignored how Bilbo’s face fell, and the anger in Bella’s eyes, and turned away from them and back to the rest of his company, “Now, we must find shelter.”

The other dwarves could do nothing but nod in agreement. They all stood up, gathering together what odds and ends they could salvage and save. They followed Thorin's lead closely. Not far down the path was a little cave. It was dark, still and silent. 

“It looks safe enough.” Thorin mumbled. “Dwalin, search the back. Caves in mountains are seldom unoccupied.” 

The bald dwarf lumbered past his leader, shoving into his shoulder as he moved past. Thorin gave him a sharp look, but Dwalin was too focused and busy to notice or care. 

“There's nothing here.” 

Everyone walked in quietly behind him. Gloin looked around, rubbing his hands together. “Right then! Let's get a fire started.”

“No.” Thorin disagreed, “No fires, not in this place. Get some sleep. We start at first light.”

Balin eyed his leader, “We were to wait in the mountains until Gandalf joined us. That was the plan.”

Thorin rolled his eyes as he dug through his pack, “Plans change. Fili, take the first watch. I’ll take the second.”

In short order, everyone spread themselves out across the cave. They used their packs and sacks and cloaks as bedding, and even though they were cold and soaked to the bone there was nothing they could do but lay back and go to sleep, which they did, dropping like flies. Bella settled Bilbo back against a low rock, putting her pack under his head for a pillow. 

The young hobbit was still very white and hadn’t said a word since his near miss. It worried her, but she didn’t try to wake him once he drifted off to sleep.   
She waited until Fili’s watch was over and the only dwarf awake was him. 

Belladonna Baggins the Second had reached a breaking point. 

She sat down next to the Dwarf King at the mouth of the cave. He ignored her, and pulled out a whetstone, drawing it across Orcist slowly. 

“What is the greatest insult that you can give a dwarf?” Bella asked suddenly. 

Thorin looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “Call them an elf.” 

She nodded, “And why is that?” 

“What help came from the elves when the dragon burned our home? What shelter did they give our women and children, what crust did they give to feed our orphans and widows? None. They turned their backs on our alliance, but call us little greedy folk. Tree-shaggers, the lot of them. Thranduil was there. I watched him ride away as my father begged him for help.” 

She pondered on this for a moment. “Why did you do that?” 

He turned to face her. “Do what, Miss Baggins.” 

“Master Oakenshield, what do you think a halfling is, exactly?” 

He gaze said he thought her very odd, “Why, you of course.” 

She slapped him full across the face, then gasped. Her hands flew to her mouth. He blinked and touched his reddening cheek. 

“I am many things, sir,” she said venomously, “Odd, and Mad, and a Fool of a Took at times, but you might as well have just called me an elf with what that word means to us.” 

“But I thought it was just another term for hobbit,” Thorin said in confusion, “What does it mean?” 

“You just likened me to a mule, useless, only fit for work, unable to breed. And when I say work, I mean both manual..and physical. If you catch my drift. It’s the worst thing you could call me. I am half of nothing, sir, and all of myself.” 

He blanched. “You mean this entire time….” he trailed off.

“It would have been kinder to call me a camp follower to my face.” 

“Well, I do apologize, Miss Baggins.” 

“He’s trying you know.” Her backwards gesture into the gave told him who she was speaking of. “Honestly I think he wants to impress you. Hasn’t had much male influence. Papa did what he could, but he didn’t stick around for anything important. He admires you.” 

“He’s foolish, and his mistakes could cost someone their life.” 

“They won’t if you give him a chance.” 

“I can’t risk my quest or my Company for the life of one hobbit. 

“That hobbit is a member of your Company, and my brother!” 

“Yes, and your flight of fancy is the only reason he nearly died out here in the wild!”

She couldn’t stop herself. She made to slap him again. He caught her small wrist in his large, rough palm. His dark eyes took her in, her flushed cheeks, her heaving chest. 

Unable to stop himself, he pulled her in closer. With his free hand he grasped her chin and tilted her head towards him. With one last, dark look, he sealed her mouth with his in a deep, all consuming kiss.

She was on fire. She was being burned from the inside out. He was stealing her very breath. His beard brushed her smooth cheeks roughly as he moved his mouth over hers possessively. Green Mother, she felt as if she could trek all across Arda and kill the dragon herself if only he would ask. His hand released her wrist as his arm wrapped around her waist to pull her closer to him, and her hands reached up to wind through his hair and yank him down to a more manageable level. 

The two were so caught up in their own... _ahem_...business that they didn’t notice the blades beneath them change color, or the sound of mechanics echoing throughout the cave. They finally pulled apart as Bilbo shouted, and exchanging a look they dashed back into the cave. Bilbo had been woken by his own blade glowing a bright blue, and Thorin barely had enough time to shout, “Up, everyone, Up!” before the very floor beneath their feet split and they tumbled into darkness.


	20. Of Riddles

Bilbo wasn’t quite sure how he had got here. 

First, he had nearly fallen off a cliff and died.  
Second, that churlish, pompous, arrogant Dwarf King his sister was carrying a torch for had called him a halfling...again.  
Third, he was trying to sleep when something blue woke him up.  
And finally, the very floor had opened up beneath his feet and he had slid down very un-Bagginishly on his bottom into a smelly, disgusting cage in a cave. 

Fortunately, all the rest of the Company had slid with him. But then there were goblins, and there was pushing, and pulling, and he was pretty sure they were trying to strip the dwarves down to their underthings. He couldn’t see Bella, and he was beginning to panic. It was then that he realized that for all the attention paid to the dwarves, even though he was surrounded by goblins not a one seemed to notice him. Nori did, however, and with a jerk of his head he motioned for Bilbo to stay back. Bilbo nodded slowly. 

“Where’s Bella?” he whispered, knowing if Nori couldn’t hear then he could at least see his mouth moving. 

Nori gestured again with his chin to the front of the line before he was dragged forward by a pair of goblins and Bilbo couldn’t see him anymore. 

The young hobbit crouched down and started to back away slowly. There was no need, however, for the goblins seemed not to be able to see him. He watched as the Company was led away from him down a path further into the cave, and he could only hope that Bella was okay. 

He stood up slowly and looked around, trying to figure out what to do next. Should he go after them? Should he try to get out of the cave and go to the elves, find help? He looked down at his waist where-miraculously-his little sword was still strapped to him.

 _Oh dear._

He pulled it out of the sheath. It was still glowing a bright blue. He took several steps backwards and looked around. He couldn’t see the goblin, but he knew it was there. Something moved in the corner of his eye, and he had just enough time to raise his blade before the goblin claw tore his face to pieces. 

The creature growled in frustration, and made to swipe again. They exchanged several such blows, and with each Bilbo was forced to take several steps backwards to avoid getting knocked down from the force of them. This was his mistake. 

His foot grazed the edge of the ledge, and he glanced down. The goblin took advantage of this, and jumped on his back to take a bite out of his shoulder. Screaming in pain, Bilbo swung out wildly, and they both toppled over the ledge. His head smacked against the rock particularly hard, and he was certain he blacked out for several minutes. 

Bilbo woke once more to the sight of his glowing blade. He could hear a wheezing noise coming from his left, and looked to see the goblin he had been fighting had also survived their fall. He let out a breath and assessed his injuries. His Magic had already taken care of the worst of it though, since all he could feel were bumps and bruises. He shoved his sword underneath him, concealing the glow of the blade. Just in time to, for something was coming down towards them. It was walking on all fours, but Bilbo thought it looked rather like a hobbit. He covered his mouth to muffle the sound of his breathing. The new creature had caught sight of the half-dead goblin. 

“Yes, yes, yes!” It cried, crawling over the top of the goblin, “Gollum. Gollum.”

Bilbo watched as the creature grabbed the goblin by the feet and began to drag it down the path they had landed on. After the first few tugs, the goblin suddenly came to life, drawing on his last bit of strength to try and kill the thing pulling on it. It was not strong enough, however, for as the goblin swiped feebly at the thing, the creature reached over for a rock and began to pound it in the head. As the two things fought, Bilbo could see the glint of something that looked like gold fly out of the loincloth the creature was wearing. It landed on the ground with a soft thud. 

The goblin was now very much dead. The creature resumed pulling it down the path. 

“Nasty goblinsis,” it hacked out, “But it’s better than boneses, precious, yes it is!”

Bilbo stood up as the two things disappeared into the cavern beyond. Sting no longer glowed as brightly. He picked up the blade and slid it back into his sheath. Drawn to the glint he had seen, he tiptoed down the path to the area he had seen it fall. He leaned down and ran his hand over the rock. His fingers brushed something hard, and he picked up the Ring. 

He could still hear the creature hacking down the path. 

“Gollum! Gollum.” 

Can’t keep calling it the creature. Might as well call it Gollum. He crept closer to the sound. 

“Too many boneses, precious. Not enough flesh!” 

The voice changed suddenly, became more deep and demanding, “Shut up! Get its skin off. Start with its head.”

Bilbo peaked out from behind the rock. Gollum was perched with the goblin on a large rock in the middle of what looked like an underground lake. Gollum still held the rock in his hand, and it looked as if he was trying to beat off a chunk of the goblin, most likely for consumption. To Bilbo’s horror, he realized that Gollum was singing a rather gruesome song and beating the arm of the goblin in time to the music. 

_The cold hard lands,  
they bites our hands,  
they gnaws our feet.  
The rocks and stones,  
they're like old bones,  
all bare of meat.  
Cold as death,  
they have no breath,  
its good to eat._

In trying to get a closer look, Bilbo knocked several pebbles into the water with his foot. He froze, breathing as quietly as he could. Seconds pass, and Bilbo chances another look at the rock. All that is there is the body of the goblin. He pressed himself further against the rock, trying to control his breathing. Something scuffled above him, and a drop of drool landed on his cheek. He looked up so saw Gollum licking his lips and giving a toothy grin. 

He jumped down in front of where Bilbo was sitting. “Bless us and splash us, precious! That's a meaty mouthful!” 

Gollum crawled towards Bilbo. The hobbit lifted his hands briefly, and his eyes glowed. He was to scared to use any words to control the Magic, and so twin streams of flame poured out of his palms. They landed inches from Gollum, who backed away with a cry of fear. 

“Back! Stay back! I'm warning you, don't come any closer.” He let out another stream of flames. 

Bilbo stood up, tripping over his own feet. As he fell to the ground, his sword slid part way out of his sheath. He held his hand up in a warning as he regained his footing. Gollum eyed the blade with interest. 

“It's got an elvish blade, but its not an elfs. Not an elfs, no.” Gollum squinted up at Bilbo, perplexed, “What is it, precious? What is it?” 

Bilbo lowered his hands in confusion, “"I am Mr. Bilbo Baggins. I have lost the dwarves and I have lost the wizard, and I have lost my sister. And I don't know where I am; and I don't want to know, if only I can get away”

Gollum looked curious, “Bagginses? What is a Bagginses, precious?” 

“I'm a hobbit, from the Shire.”

“Oh! We like goblinses, batses and fishes, but we haven't tried hobbitses before. Is it soft? Is it juicy?” He licked his lips again and drew closer to Bilbo, his mouth dripping drool all over the ground beneath him. 

Bilbo backed away and raised his hands in fear. They glowed, but this time he did not release the MAgic just yet. “Now, now, keep your distance! I'll use this if I have to!” 

Gollum snarled loudly, backing away in fear. His noises echoed all throughout the cave. 

“I don't want any trouble,” Bilbo went on, “do you understand? Just show me the way to get out of here, and I'll be on my way!”

Gollum cocked his head to the side, “Why? Is it lost?”

“Yes, yes, and I want to be unlost as soon as possible.” 

Gollum's face lit up. Bilbo was getting whiplash from his personality changed every thirty seconds. 

“Oh!” He cried in a high pitched voice, “We knows! We knows safe paths for hobbitses. Safe paths in the dark.” His voice deeped again, “Shut up!”

Bilbo frowned and blinked swiftly, looking around, “I didn’t say anything.”

“Wasn't talking to you.” Still the deep voice. Gollum moved away slightly and crouched down behind an outcropping of rock. Bilbo could still hear him though, and it was almost as if two different people were talking to one another. 

“Well, yes, we was, precious, we was.” The high pitched voice again. 

“No!” and back to the deep voice. 

Bilbo was fed up, “Look, I don't know what your game is, but I-” 

Well that did it. Gollum jumped up and turned around to face Bilbo, grinning excitedly, “Games? We love games, doesn't we, precious? Does it like games? Does it? Does it? Does it like to play?”

“Maybe?” Well, he might as well go with it if it keeps him from being eaten. 

“What has roots as nobody sees, is taller than trees. Up, up, up it goes, and yet never grows.” 

_Oh, he means to riddle me. Well then._ There was something he could do. He pondered for a moment before coming to the answer, “The mountain.” 

Gollum nodded and let out a peal of breathless laughter, “Yes, yes! Oh, let's have another one. Come on, do it again, do it again! Ask us.”

He stepped back suddenly, shaking his head, “NO!” The deep voice again, “No more riddles! Finish him off! Finish him now! Gollum! Gollum!”

Gollum began to lunge at Bilbo who held up his hand and backed away, “No! No! I want to play, I do. I can see that you are very good at this. So, why don't we have a game of riddles? Yes? Just you and me.” 

“Just us?” Oh good, the high pitched voice was back. 

“Yes. Yes. And if I win, you show me the way out.” Bilbo smiled uncertainly. 

Gollum growled and turned away to confer with himself. He crouched down behind the stone, and the deep voice returned against, “And if it loses? What then?”

“If it loses,” and high pitched again, “precious, then we eats it.” 

Gollum turned back to Bilbo with a glee-filled expression, “If Baggins loses, we eats it whole.” 

Bilbo thought this over for a moment before shrugging. “Fair enough.” 

Gollum sat back on his haunches, waiting expectantly, “Well, Baggins first.” 

BIlbo pondered what to say before it came to him, “Thirty white horses on a red hill. First they champ, then they stamp, then they stand still.”

Gollum thought long and hard. “Teeth?”

Bilbo couldn’t keep the unhappy expression off his face. 

Gollum laughed, “Teeth! Yes, my precious!” His face turned sorrowful, “But we, we only have six.” He opened his mouth to show Bilbo, who resisted the urge to gag. While it might not have been as bad as troll-stick, Gollum’s breath was horrid. 

Gollum’s face turned angry, “Our turn.” he hissed, “Voiceless it cries, wingless flutters, toothless bites, mouthless mutters.”

Gollum began to creep forward, inching ever closer to Bilbo. Bilbo backed up slightly and did his best to keep a rock between them at all times. He held up a finger, “Just a minute.” He began to wrack his brain for the answer. 

“Oh, we knows! We knows!” “Shut up!”

Bilbo turned to stare at the lake, still thinking hard. A soft breeze drifted over the top of the waterk and where it came from he did not know. The water ruffled lightly as the wind passed by. Bilbo grinned. 

“Wind. It's wind. Of course it is!”

Gollum growled in frustration. “Very clever, hobbitses, very clever.” Gollum clambered forward,snarling. Bilbo unsheathed his sword, pointing it down at Gollum. 

“Ah, ah. My turn. A box without hinges, key or lid, yet golden treasure inside is hid.”

Gollum turned around, muttering to himself, “Box... and a lid, then a key…”

“Well?” 

Gollum pointed a boney finger at Bilbo, “It's nasty.” He started to pace up and down the rock they were standing on. 

“Give up?” Bilbo asked triumphantly. 

“Give us a chance, precious, give us a chance!” 

Frustrated, Gollum pounded down at the floor. He puckered his face, deep in furious thought. From the position he was currently in and the noises he was making, Bilbo thought that he might see Gollum...ah...make a stink right there in front of him. Suddenly, he opened his eyes, smiling widely. 

“Eggses!”

Bilbo cursed under his breath, grateful Bella was not here to hear him.

“Eggses! Wet, crunchy, little eggses. Grandmother taught us to suck them, yes!”

A bat squealed in the distance, wings flapping. The noise startled Bilbo, who turned to see if he could see the animal. When he turned back, Gollum was gone. He could still hear the thing hacking and coughing as it crept around the cave. Unfortunately, it was echoing and he had no idea where Gollum was at present. 

“We have one for you.” Gollum called out, “All things it devours, birds, beasts, trees and flowers. Gnaws iron, bites steel, grinds hards stone to meal. Slays kings, devours towns, and beats high mountain down”

Bilbo paced around the rock, his sword raised defensively. Eyebrows furrowed, he thought as hard as he could.

“Answer us!”

“Give me a moment,” Bilbo demanded, “please! I gave you a good long while.” 

Bilbo walked in circles around the slab, shaking his head, “Oh, I don't know this one.”

“Is it tasty,” Gollum hissed, “Is it scrumptious?”

Poor Bilbo sat in the dark thinking of all the horrible names of all the giants and ogres he had ever heard told of in tales, but not one of them had done all these things. He had a feeling that the answer was quite different and that he ought to know it, but he could not think of it. He began to get frightened, and that is bad for thinking. Gollum began to creep closer, Bilbo could see his eyes coming towards him. His tongue seemed to stick in his mouth; he wanted to shout out: "Give me more time! Give me time!" But all that came out with a sudden squeal was: "Time! Time!" Bilbo was saved by pure luck. For that of course was the answer.

“Last question. Last chance.” Behind his back, Gollum grasped onto a rock, but Bilbo didn’t notice. Gollum was disappointed once more; and now he was getting angry, and also tired of the game. It had made him very hungry indeed. He sat down in the dark by Bilbo. That made the hobbit most dreadfully uncomfortable and scattered his wits. 

“Ask us,” said Gollum quite nicely, “ASK US!” Well, that wasn’t quite so nice. 

But Bilbo simply could not think of any question with that nasty wet cold thing sitting next to him, and pawing and poking him. Bilbo pinched himself and slapped himself; he gripped on his little sword; he even felt in his pocket with his other hand. There he found the ring he had picked up in the passage and forgotten about. 

"What have I got in my pocket?" he said aloud slowly. 

He was only talking to himself, but Gollum thought it was a riddle, and he was frightfully upset. "Well, that’s not fair." he hissed, “Not fair. Not fair!” He scrunched up his nose and shook his head. “It’s against the rules!” He threw down the rock he had picked up to bonk Bilbo with. 

“Ask us another one!” Gollum demanded. 

Bilbo lifted his sword and pointed it at the creature in front of him, “No, no. You told me to ask you a question. Well, that is my question. What have I got in my pocket?”

"Sssss," hissed Gollum. "It must give us three guesseses, my preciouss, three guesseses." 

"Three guesses. Very well! Guess away!" said Bilbo.

"Handses!" said Gollum. 

"Wrong," said Bilbo, who had luckily just taken his hand out again. "Guess again!" 

"Sssss," said Gollum, more upset than ever, “Fishbones, goblins' teeth, wet shells, a bit of batwing, foood, ahhh!” He clutched his head and howled.

"Knife!" he said at last, then he groaned as he realized that Bilbo still held his blade, “Oh, shut up!” 

"Wrong again," said Bilbo, "Last guess!" 

"String, or nothing!" shrieked Gollum, which was not quite fair working in two guesses at once. 

"Ah, two guesses at once! Both wrong," cried Bilbo very much relieved.

Well, that did it for Gollum. He let out a low, mornful whine and fell backwards. He sat still, shivering and whispering. 

At last Bilbo could wait no longer. "Well?" he said. "What about your promise? I want to go. You must show me the way." 

"Did we say so, precious? Did we say so? Show the nassty little Baggins the way out, yes, yes. But what has it got in its pocketses, eh? Not string, precious, but not nothing." 

"Never you mind," said Bilbo sharply. "It’s no concern of yours. A promise is a promise. You lost." 

A strange look came over Gollum’s face. “Lost,” he whispered, “Lost.” He began to clutch his loincloth lightly, feeling for something that was not there. He screamed. "Losst it is, my precious, lost, lost! Curse us and crush us, my precious is lost!" 

"What's the matter?" Bilbo called. "What have you lost?" 

"It mustn't ask us," shrieked Gollum. "Not its business, no! It's losst." 

"Well, so am I," cried Bilbo, "and I want to get unlost. And I won the game, and you promised. So come along! Come and let me out, and then go on with your looking!" 

Gollum looked oddly at Bilbo for a moment before turning and scampering down the passageway. On instinct, Bilbo yanked the ring out of his pocket and held it in his hand, though he didn’t yet put it on. Bilbo could hear the echo of Gollum’s footfalls. Then suddenly out of the gloom came a sharp hiss. "What has it got in its pocketses? Tell us that. It must tell first. What has it got in its nasty, little pocketses?" 

The sound came hissing louder and sharper, and as he looked towards it, to his alarm Bilbo now saw two small points of light peering at him. As suspicion grew in Gollum's mind, the light of his eyes burned with a pale flame. The light in Gollum's eyes had become a green fire, and it was coming swiftly nearer. A look of realzization had come across the face of the foul creature. 

“Stole it.” he hissed, “He stoles it!” 

Bilbo felt the ring slip onto his finger and he began to run. He slipped on some fish bones in the floor, and fell flat with his little sword under him. In a moment Gollum was on him. But before Bilbo could do anything, recover his breath, pick himself up, or wave his sword, Gollum passed by, taking no notice of him. 

“Wait! My precious! Wait!”

_What the devil. How does he not see me, I’m lying right next to him. What could it mean?_

Painfully he got up, and sheathed his sword, which was now glowing faintly again, and began to inch forward. There seemed nothing else to do. It was no good crawling back down to Gollum's water.

"Curse it! curse it! curse it!" hissed Gollum. "Curse the Baggins! It's gone! What has it got in its pocketses? Oh we guess, we guess, my precious. He's found it, yes he must have. My birthday present." 

_But how does he not see me?_

Looking down, Bilbo realized that he could not see his own shadow, which should have been visible from the blue light being cast by his sword. 

_Why, I’m invisible._

His head was in a whirl of hope and wonder. It seemed that the ring he had was a magic ring: it made you invisible! He had heard of such things, of course, in old old tales; but it was hard to believe that he really had found one, by accident. It didn’t feel the way he thought it would, however.

The world was cloaked with shadows and shapes, and seemed very out of sorts. It was almost as if he was seeing everything through a veil, and truth be told his stomach was somewhat upset by how shaky it all made him feel. Bilbo pricked up his ears. He could hear something clamouring down the passageway. Gollum could hear it to, for he dove down behind a rock to hide. 

“Quickly!” A very familiar voice called out, “This way!” 

_Gandalf? Why, it’s the Company!_

Bilbo started to give a shout, but stopped himself. Gollum was still between him and the line of dwarves currently making their way to the light at the end of the passage. And was that…

_Why is Thorin carrying Bella?_

Bilbo truthfully didn’t have time to think about that. There was nothing for it. He had no other choice. Now alone, Gollum had stood up. His back was turned to Bilbo. Bilbo crept forward and lifted his sword, preparing to land the killing blow. He stopped. 

He couldn’t kill this pitiful creature. Not while his back was turned. In a fight was one matter, but in cold blood was another matter entirely. He just couldn’t do it. Gollum turned, and Bilbo almost shed a tear from how sad and heartbroken the creature looked. He lowered his sword, and sighed deeply. 

That was a mistake. Gollum heard him, and snarled. But Bilbo was ready. As Gollum leaped for the location he thought Bilbo to be, Bilbo jumped onto a nearby rock and threw himself over Gollum’s head. Indeed, it was no great leap like a Big Folk person or even a dwarf might give, but it was decent enough for a hobbit. He looked down the passageway where the light was coming from. Gollum had brought Bilbo to the way out after all. 

Gollum threw himself backwards, and grabbed as the hobbit flew over him, but too late: his hands snapped on thin air, and Bilbo, falling fair on his sturdy feet, sped off down the new tunnel. He did not turn to see what Gollum was doing. There was a hissing and cursing almost at his heels at first, then it stopped. All at once there came a blood curdling shriek, filled with hatred and despair. Gollum was defeated. He dared go no further. He had lost: lost his prey, and lost, too, the only thing he had ever cared for, his precious. The cry brought Bilbo's heart to his mouth, but still he held on. 

Now faint as an echo, but menacing, the voice came behind: "Thief, thief, thief! Baggins! We hates it, we hates it, we hates it for ever!" Then there was a silence. But that too seemed menacing to Bilbo. 

The passage was low and roughly made. It must have been difficult for Gandalf to run down moments ago, but it was not too difficult for the hobbit, except when, in spite of all care, he stubbed his poor toes again, several times, on nasty jagged stones in the floor.Scuttling as fast as his legs would carry him he turned the last corner and came suddenly right into an open space, where the light, after all that time in the dark, seemed dazzlingly bright. Really it was only a leak of sunshine in through a doorway, where a great door, a stone door, was left standing open. 

Bilbo blinked, and then suddenly he saw goblins: goblins in full armour with drawn swords sitting just inside the door, and watching it with wide eyes, and watching the passage that led to it. They were aroused, alert, ready for anything. They saw him sooner than he saw them. Yes, they saw him. Whether it was an accident, or a last trick of the ring before it took a new master, it was no longer on his finger. 

With yells of delight the goblins rushed upon him. A pang of fear and loss, like an echo of Gollum's misery, struck Bilbo, and forgetting even to draw his sword he struck his hands into his pockets. And there was the ring still, in his left pocket, and it slipped on his finger. The goblins stopped short. They could not see a sign of him. He had vanished. They yelled twice as loud as before, but not so delightedly. 

"Where is it?" they cried. 

"Go back up the passage!" some shouted. 

"This way!" some yelled. 

"That way!" others yelled. 

"Look out for the door," bellowed the captain. 

Whistles blew, armour clashed, swords rattled, goblins cursed and swore and ran hither and thither, falling over one another and getting very angry. There was a terrible outcry, todo, and disturbance. Bilbo was dreadfully frightened, but he had the sense to understand what had happened and to sneak behind a big rock, and so get out of the way and avoid being bumped into, trampled to death, or caught by feel. 

"I must get to the door, I must get to the door! Oh I hope the others made it out." he kept on saying to himself, but it was a long time before he ventured to try. Then it was like a horrible game of blindman's buff. The place was full of goblins running about, and the poor little hobbit dodged this way and that, was knocked over by a goblin who could not make out what he had bumped into, scrambled away on all fours, slipped between the legs of the captain just in time, got up, and ran for the door. 

He could see outside into the open air: there were a few steps running down into a narrow valley between tall mountains; the sun came out from behind a cloud and shone bright on the outside of the doorbut he could not get through. The goblins shouted. He gave a terrific squirm, for they nearly had the thing shut by now and it was open barely wide enough for him to fit. Buttons burst off in all directions. He was through, with a torn coat and waistcoat, and the door was already shut behind him, and they were not going to follow him. Bilbo had escaped.


	21. Of Goblin Town

Bella wasn’t quite sure how she got here. 

First, her brother nearly died.   
Second, that infuriating, confusticated dwarf called him a halfling, again.   
Third, she had somehow got the gumption to kiss the Dwarf King.   
And finally, the very floor had opened up beneath her feet and she had slid down very un-Bagginishly on her bottom into a smelly, disgusting cage in a cave. 

Why, by the hair of Yavanna’s feet, she was having a trying day. 

Being dumped into a cage full of dwarves with even more dwarves falling in after her would quite put what little reputation she had left in tatters. As it was, it was very uncomfortable. Most (if not all) of the dwarrows had slept with their weapons on that night, and she was being poked and prodded no matter which way she turned. She heard a particularly loud BOOM as something large bounced down the tunnel. Looking up, she was barely able to dive out of the way before Bombur fell onto the pile. From the groans she was hearing, not all the dwarves were as lucky. 

The relief she felt at not being smushed by Bombur was swiftly yanked away by the sound of drums. Drums, and the sight of goblins pouring out of every crack and crevice in the cavern they had fallen into. Although at this point, Bella largely thought that they had been dropped on purpose, rather than fallen in by accident. 

The cage they had fallen into suddenly lurched forward and spilled them all out onto the passage. Bombur of course rolled the farthest, and noticing the approaching hoard quickly scrambled back. 

“Look out!” 

Someone lifted Bella up by the neck of her shirt and planted her firmly behind him. Looking up and seeing a bald head, she realized it was Dwalin. She could think of nothing else to do, and scrambled up onto his back, clutching round his neck with one arm and grasping one of her blades in the other. She felt him nod in approval, and she grinned. Squirming around, she managed to slip her other blade down the leg of her trousers. It was a smart move. 

Once the hoard was upon them, the fifteen of them didn’t stand a chance. They were punched, bitten, squished and squashed, pulled and pricked. They were very thoroughly and rather violently disarmed, and the goblins began to push them forward down the path. Bella did a quick headcount, and found they were one short. 

Turning back, she tried to call out for Bilbo but stopped herself when she met Nori’s eye. He held a hand to his lips and gave a flick of his eyes behind him. Her own gaze widened, and she tried to see Bilbo beyond, but it was too late. They had already rounded the corner. 

_Oh, Green Mother, keep him safe._

The dwarves, even once disarmed, did not stop struggling. Bella was surprisingly happy to see that they managed to push several of the goblins off the edge of the path and down into the abyss. She felt a hand snake up her leg, and looked down to see a goblin sneering at her hungrily. With a shout, she kicked out with her foot and caught him square in the face. It quite thoroughly knocked him out, and she didn’t hide her glee as he fell down the side. She sobered at the feeling. 

_I just killed something. Oh, Yavanna._

She was pulled out of her thoughts as the rhythm of the drums changed. All around them as they pushed the dwarves forward, goblins began to sing. 

_Clap! Snap! the black crack!  
Grib, grab! Pinch, nab!  
And down, down to Goblin town  
You go, my lad!  
Clash, crash! Crush, smash!  
Hammer and tongs! Knocker and gongs!  
Pound, pound, down underground!  
Ho, ho! my lad!  
Swish, smack! Whip crack!  
Batter and beat! Yammer and bleat!  
Work, work! Nor dare to shirk,  
While Goblins quaff, and Goblins laugh,  
Round and round far underground  
Below, my lad_

The goblins led the dwarves down a vast network of tunnels and bridges made of what appeared to be rotting word. All around them on outcroppings and ledges thousands of other goblins watched the movement with interest. It was these goblins who were beating on things to make the noise that Bella supposed they thought was music. Bella tried to make herself as small as possible as she continued to clutch Dwalin’s back. They were led into the massive throne room deep in the cavern system and brought to the feet of what could only be called the Great Goblin. THhis thing was ten times the size of a normal goblin, and if one would only observe the bones that made up his throne one would understand how he came to be so huge and grotesque. 

He was sitting on his bone-throne, tapping his foot to the beat. All of a sudden he leaped up, only to stagger back from his own weight. If Bella had been able to see behind him (she couldn’t because of his large mass) then she would have seen about half a dozen little goblins scurry out from under the bone-throne in order to brace their King up. They very nearly paid for such a task with their life. 

The Great Goblin opened his mouth and joined in with his fellows. “Oh, I love this song!”

Bifur covered his ears. Indeed they all did. 

“Clap! Snap! the black crack!” He rocked back and forth, causing his little minions to scramble to keep him upright. 

Finally catching his balance, he continued, “Pound. Pound. UUUUUUuuuunnnnndddddddderrrrrrrrrground! Down, down, down in goblin town!”

The song finally finished as they were brought before the throne. Bella stared in horror at the skull mounted to the Great Goblin’s sceptre. The Great Goblin eyed the dwarves with interest as the music faded out. “Catchy, isn’t it?” he remarked, “One of my own finer compositions, if I do say so myself.” 

“That,” Balin said gruffly, “Was not a song. That was an abomination!” 

All the dwarves loudly agreed. 

“Abominations. Mutations. Deviations! Hah! That’s all you’re gonna find down here!” With a wheeze and a cough, the Great Goblin lounged back onto his throne. The goblins surrounding the dwarves threw all of the weapons they had collected down into a pile. 

“Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom?” The Great Goblin demanded as he eyed the pile, “Spies? Thieves? Assassins?” 

“Dwarves, your malevolence.” The second-largest of the goblins replied. 

“Dwarves?” Goblins are thought of for their ugliness, now, not for their brains. 

“Aye, my lord. We found them on the Front Porch.”   
“Well, don't just stand there!” The Great Goblin cried, gesturing wildly, “Search them! Every crack, every crevice.”

The goblins rushed forward, searching very thoroughly. Anything they pulled from the dwarves was thrown at the feet of the Great Goblin once it had been thoroughly smashed and crushed. Bella was very offended to see that one goblin had done as much with Oin’s ear trumpet. She saw what they were pulling out of Nori’s pockets and shot the thief a dirty look. 

Why, those are great-gramma Baggins silver spoons!

The goblins emptied their packs as well, and one thing in particular caught the attention of the second-largest goblin. He picked it up. “It is my belief, your great peturberance, that they are in league with elves!”

He had found one of the candlesticks Nori had filched from the dinner table during their stay. He handed it to the Great Goblin, who eyed the bottom of it closely. 

“Made in Rivendell,” he observed with a sneer. He threw it over his shoulder, “Second Age. Bah. Couldn’t give it away if I tried.” 

The Company all turned to give Nori a glare. He tried very hard to look innocent, and failed.

“What,” he said, “Jus’ a couple o’ keepsakes.” 

Ori stepped between his brothers, fearing what Dori might do if he didn’t. He eyed his eldest brother sorrowfully, and Dori scoffed and turned away. 

“What are you doing in these parts?” 

Thorin sighed, and began to step forward. To Bella’s surprise, it was Oin who pulled him back. THe older dwarf planted himself quite firmly in front of his king. Dwalin wrapped an arm around one of Thorin’s and held him, and on the opposite side Dori did the same. Thorin had no hope of moving even if he tried. If it had just been one of them, certainly, but two? Not a chance. 

“Don’t you worry, lads. I’ll handle this.” Oin said confidently. 

“Hah! I want the truth.” The Great Goblin pounded the ground with his horrid sceptre. “Warts, and all.” 

Oin looked at him with distaste. “Well, now you’re going to have to speak up, you see. Yer boys flattened me trumpet!” He held the destroyed thing up as evidence. 

This of course made the Great Goblin angry, “I’ll flatten more than your trumpet!” 

He heaved himself up off his bone-throne and strode (as much as something his size can stride) to the front of the throng of dwarves. Kili was his target, and Bofur saw this. The hatted dwarf placed himself firmly in front of the prince. 

“Well, now, if it’s more information you’re wanting, I’m the one to speak to!” 

The Great Goblin eyed him curiously, and Bofur took this as his cue. 

“We were on the road. Well, it’s not so much a road as a path. Actually, come to think of it, it’s not really even that, is it?” All the dwarves nodded, “No, it’s more of a track, yes, a track. And see, we were on this road, which wasn’t a road it’s a path, and it wasn’t a path, it was a track. Anyway, point is, we were on this road, like a path, like a track, and then we went-” here Bofur stretched out his hands in a wordless question, “Which is a problem, you see, and it’s a problem because...we were supposed to be in….in...in Dunland last Tuesday!”

“Visiting distant relations!” Dori added helpfully, forgetting his anger at Nori for the moment. 

“Some inbreds, on my mother’s side, you see, and……” 

And here is where the Great Goblin lost his patience, not that he had any to begin with but he certainly had none now. He screamed at the top of his lungs, and Bofur shut his mouth and folded his hands in front of him. 

“Very well,” the Great Goblin growled, “if they will not talk, we'll make them squawk!” He gestured forward with his sceptre, “Bring out the mangler! Bring out the bone breaker! Start with the youngest.” He pointed a meaty finger to Ori. 

Well, that just wouldn’t do. Bella was very fond of the young scribe. That wouldn't do at all. She jumped down from Dwalin’s back and dove under several pairs of dwarf legs before anyone could catch her. 

“HEY!” She yelled. “You want the youngest, you great sodding bastard, well here I am!”

The Great Goblin was very interested. “Well, what’s this then?” 

“Get away from her,” Kili shouted, “I’m the one you want!”

"No, I am!"

"Not them, me!"

"Me!"

The truth was that in this moment Bella was being quite stupid. She was little, and the youngest, and a female. She had been as safe as she could be in this type of situation clinging to Dwalin’s back. By some miracle, none of the goblins had noticed her. And in all honesty, she understood that the Mangler and the Bone-Breaker were most likely not ways to go on holiday. But at this point she had nearly been eaten by trolls, chased by wargs, survived a battle of stone giants, and been unnoticed by goblins. In all truth, this new development felt like a walk in the park. She channeled every ounce of Tookish sass her mother had gifted her with. 

“Well,” she sassed the Great Goblin, “Are we getting on with it? I’m getting old over here.” 

Suddenly two goblins had her by the hands, and she was pulled very tightly between them, all stretched out. She didn’t know what was coming, but she braced herself all the same. 

“Don’t you dare!” Fili screamed. 

“Let her go!” Nori shouted. 

“Bella love,” Bofur called out, “Hold on.” 

She did. She could hear the swish through the air, and recognized the sound. It was the same sound she heard whenever Otho’s ponies didn’t obey him right away. She imagined that this was going to hurt a great deal more than a horse-whip. 

_**CRACK.** _

_**CRACK.**_

She didn’t scream. She was very surprised that she didn’t scream. There really was no need, however, for the dwarves were screaming enough as it was. 

Then the pain came. Fire spread across her back and all through her veins. She knew it was a whip, but it felt like someone had pressed a branding iron to her back. If she had been able to see behind her, she would have known that the whip was made of metal and had just been pulled from the fire.

_**CRACK.** _

Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. A tear leaked out of her eye, and her knees buckled. Her head hung, and she panted through the fire of pain that was spreading across her back. She couldn’t see, but the dwarves could. The whip they were using wasn’t just heated, it had small one-inch spikes sticking out of it that either stabbed her or tore her skin. She could feel the wetness as blood dripped down her back. 

_**CRACK.**_

She screamed then. 

“STOP!” 

Bella lifted her head slightly. No Thorin, she wanted to say, go back, but she couldn’t say anything. But he was stepping forward firmly. 

“Well, well, well, look who it is! Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under The Mountain.” 

The Great Goblin gave a mocking bow. “Oh, but I'm forgetting, you don't have a mountain. And you're not a king. Which makes you nobody, really. But I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head. Just the head, nothing attached. Perhaps you know of whom I speak. A vengeful enemy of yours. He might even pay me for your little pretty here, for I’m guessing it belongs to you. Tell me, is she with child? After all, you killed his father. He’d take great pleasure in killing your son.” 

Bella found her strength and braced herself upwards. She spat at the Great Goblin. “He’s more of a king then you ever will be. You sit there on your throne of bones and the things you have stolen from your victims, and call yourself Great. Well, I tell you you are unworthy of standing in his presence.” 

“Bella.” Thorin said sharply, turning back to the Goblin, “Bolg of the North perished in the fields in front of Moria. He was destroyed. He was slain in battle long ago, just like his father.” 

The Great Goblin let out a great laugh. He leaned over the side of his bone-throne to a little bitty goblin who was sitting in a basket by his head. “Send word to Bolg of the North. Tell him, I have found his prize.” The little bitty goblin quickly scribbled this message down, let out a cackle, pulled a lever, and vanished into the cavern below. 

The Great Goblin turned back to his guests. A pack of dwarves, and a hobbit strung between two of his underlings. This was proving to be a good day, for him at least. 

The second largest dwarf looked down as his foot nudged something, and catching a glimpse of something very familiar he leaned down to take the sword in hand. Drawing it out, he gave a wail of pain at the sight of the blue glowing blade. He threw it down at the feet of his master, and all the goblins who saw it cowered in fear. 

“I know that sword,” The Great Goblin hissed, “It is the Goblin-Cleaver, the Biter, the blade that sliced a thousand necks.” He turned his angry, evil eyes to Thorin, “Lash them! Slice them! Eat them! Kill them! Kill them all! Cut off his head!”

The goblins converged on the dwarves, separating them from one another and obeying their master. The dwarves fought back as best they could, but the simple fact was that there were far too many goblins and far too few dwarves. Bella’s goblins abandoned her and threw her on the ground in order to seize Thorin. It took five of them to hold him down, one for each limb and one sitting on his torso. A sixth goblin held a dirty blade to his neck, preparing to cut. There was no time. There was no one coming to help. They were all going to die, and she was never going to see Bilbo again. 

_Mother, please!_

Bella breathed, and then she snapped. 

A great white light filled her up, and her injuries healed before anyone could blink. The light glowed from her eyes and her fingers. She stood up, and took a step forward. The Great Goblin fell backwards in his attempt to get away from her. Everyone froze and stared at her. The platform beneath them began to shake. Bella spoke, and her voice was a terrible thing. 

_**“Ydych chi'n meiddio niweidio creadigaethau fy ngŵr?  
Nid eich un chi ydyn nhw.   
Maen nhw gen i.   
Mwynglawdd i amddiffyn.   
Ni fydd gennych chi nhw.   
Ni fydd gennych chi nhw.   
Byddwch yn marw,   
ac yn cael eich claddu mewn carreg,   
ac ni fydd unrhyw un i'ch galaru.”** _

“Bella?” Thorin whispered in a worried voice. 

She held out her hand, and then there were stone spears flying from the edge of the cavern in all directions. In the blink of an eye, all the goblins holding the dwarves on the platform were cut down and killed, with the spears either knocking them off the platform or pinning them to it. 

The light coming from Bella flickered out, and she fell forward roughly, collapsing on the floor. Thorin dove for her and pulled her to him, cradling her into his chest. He called her name, but she did not wake. 

Another blinding light could be seen at the edge of the platform, and there was Gandalf. He took in the dead goblins, the shell-shocked dwarves, and the unconscious hobbit in one brief glance. 

The goblins who were left were beginning to rise. The Wizard let out a breath. “Take up arms. Fight! FIGHT!” 

The Company began to pick up their things from the platform as swiftly as possible. The hoard had overcome their fear and was converging on them once more. The Great Goblin peaked from behind his throne (for he had hidden there when Bella had stood up) and caught sight of the blade held in Gandalf’s hand. 

“He wields the Foe Hammer!” he cried, “The Beater. Strike them down! Kill them! Kill them!”

Kili leaped over to his uncle and stabbed a goblin that had been inching towards him. Thorin looked down at it before giving his nephew a grateful look. All around them, dwarves were fighting and killing goblins, trying to find a way out. 

“This way,” Gandalf cried, pointing to one of the bridges that did not have any goblins on it, “Follow me!” 

They all scurried after him, pressing Thorin to the middle of the line. Goblins were surrounding them, but thankfully they were only approached by no more than a dozen at a time. Just enough to be a challenge, but not to many to be overrun. They never stopped running, only pausing for a moment to slice, dice, or kill when needed. The bridges were growing more narrow and treacherous, to the point where they were more scared of falling off than of being killed by a goblin. 

The hoard was growing closer, however. Looking up, Gandalf caught sight of a low hanging portion of the ceiling that could prove useful. He struck it with his staff, and a round boulder broke off of it. With a shout, Dori (who was at the front of the line, and who was also the strongest dwarf present) gave it a mighty shove, and began to roll it down the path they were currently running down. The goblins were too slow to realize what was happening, and so were unable to dive out of the way. They fell under the boulder’s furious pace. 

“Good shot there, brother,” Nori called, and Dori grinned back at him. 

They were finally ahead of the hoard, even if it was only by a few moments. Thorin gave the unconscious hobbit in his arms a grin, only to realize that she was no longer unconscious. Her eyes had returned to normal, and she pushed on his chest. Taking the hint (but not liking it) he set her down. She steadied herself and offered him a wan smile, and then they were running again. 

Bella thought they were going to make it, and then the floor in front of their feet broke into a thousand pieces. Out of this new hoe burst the Great Goblin. He planted himself on the platform in front of them with a viscous grin. 

“What,” he cried, “Thought you could escape me, did you?”

Goblins began to pile behind him. 

“What are you going to do now, Wizard?” 

Gandalf stabbed him in the eye. Then sliced him across the belly. Bella pushed forward in front of the Wizard. She thought of her brother, and of her parents, and how desperately she wanted to make it out alive. 

_Please, she thought, burn._

She opened her hands and fire poured out of her palms, cooking the twenty or so goblins that had been directly behind their master. She held the spell until they were thoroughly burnt to a crisp. 

“Well,” The Great Goblin sighed, “That’ll do it.” 

Gandalf slit his throat. The force of his body hitting the platform broke it beneath their feet, and they were suddenly sliding down the cliffside. They bounced and slid and glided, all the way down to the bottom of the cavern. 

They say there for a minute in stunned silence. “Well,” Bofur chirped, “That could’ve been worse.” 

The body of the Great Goblin fell on top of them, crushing them into the platform. Bella let out a scream as she felt her ankle snap. 

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” Dwalin pulled Nori out from under the never-you-minds of the Great Goblin, eyeing the dwarf with trepidation. 

Kili looked up and paled. The hoard was still chasing them. “Gandalf!” he cried desperately, pointing upwards. 

Thorin yanked Bella back up and into his arms. She didn’t protest, just buried her head into his coat. 

“There’s too many of them,” Dwalin cried, “We can’t fight them.” 

“There’s only one thing that will save us now,” Gandalf shouted, “Daylight! RUN!”

And run they did. All the way out of the mountain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've decided that Welsh is going to stand in for hobbitish hear in our little version of Arda. I just used google translate, so if someone who actually speaks the language notices something wrong, please let me know. 
> 
> Bella is saying: You dare to harm my husband's creations? They are not yours. They are mine. Mine to protect. You will not have them. You will not have them. You will die, and be buried in stone, and there will be none to mourn you. 
> 
> Cast:   
> Bella=Emilie De Ravin  
> Bilbo=Tom Holland 
> 
> I never in my wildest dreams thought it would be this long. Here we are, not even done with 1/3, and it's over 60K words. Thanks so much for reading, and for the kudos, and for the comments. 
> 
> I've got all the rest of it laid out in my head, I just have to get it written down. <3


	22. Of Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bella and Bilbo finally tell the dwarves what they lost.

Bilbo had escaped the goblins, but he did not know where he was. He knew that he had just seen the dwarves run past him not too long ago, but he had spent a good long while waiting for the right moment to jump out the door past the goblin-guards. He had lost hood, cloak, food, pony, his father’s buttons, his friends, and most important of all his sister. He wandered on and on, till the sun began to sink westwards behind the mountains. Their shadows fell across Bilbo's path, and he looked back. Then he looked forward and could see before him only ridges and slopes falling towards lowlands and plains glimpsed occasionally between the trees. 

"Good heavens!" he exclaimed. "I seem to have got right to the other side of the Misty Mountains, right to the edge of the Land Beyond! Where and O where can Gandalf and Bell and the dwarves have got to?" 

He still wandered on, out of the little high valley, over its edge, and down the slopes beyond; trying to find some trail or trek or sign that they had passed this way. He had just about given up when he heard voices. He stopped and listened. It did not sound like goblins; so he crept forward carefully. He was on a stony path winding downwards with a rocky wall. on the left hand; on the other side the ground sloped away and there were dells below the level of the path overhung with bushes and low trees. 

In one of these dells under the bushes people were talking. He crept still nearer, and suddenly he saw peering between two big boulders, a head with a red hood on: it was Balin doing lookout. He could have clapped and shouted for joy, but he did not. He had still got the ring on, for fear of meeting something unexpected and unpleasant, and he saw that Balin was looking straight at him without noticing him. 

"I will give them all a surprise," he thought, as he crawled into the bushes at the edge of the dell. 

“Right then,” Gandalf was saying, “There’s five, six, seven, and eight….” he turned around, counting the dwarves sitting around him in the clearing, “Bifur, Bofur, that’s ten. Fili, Kili, twelve. Bombur, and of course Bella.” The aforementioned hobbit lass was propped up on a boulder, and Oin was poking and prodding her, trying to get a look at her ankle. “Why, that’s fourteen.” A strange look came over the face of the Wizard, “Why, where is Bilbo. Where is our young hobbit lad?” 

To his astonishment, all the dwarves began looking around at the ground and at each other, as if he was something they had dropped out of their pocket! He resisted the urge to laugh.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’ve gone off and lost my brother!” There was Bella, she was mostly all right. Bilbo breathed a sigh of relief. 

“I would insist you hold still lass, I’m trying to set yer ankle so it’ll heal straight.”

“Oh, bebother and confusticate it!” Well, that was his sister if he ever heard her, “I’m telling you, don’t waste time wrapping the useless thing, go find my brother, he’ll have it fixed for me in a trice. All the rest of you as well, for none of you are hurt too terribly to take much energy to fix. Well, what are you waiting for, go!”

Gandalf was arguing with the dwarves. They were discussing all that had happened to them in the tunnels, and wondering and debating what they were to do now. The dwarves were grumbling, and Gandalf was saying that they could not possibly go on with their journey leaving Mr. Baggins in the hands of the goblins, without trying to find out if he was alive or dead, and without trying to rescue him. After all, only having one of their Baggins pair would simply not do. 

"After all he is my friend," said the wizard, "and not a bad little chap. I feel responsible for him. I wish to goodness you had not lost him." 

“You feel responsible for him?” Bella exclaimed, “Well, how do you think I feel? My parents barely in the ground a year, and I’ve gone off and managed to lose him, in a goblin cave no less! My mother is rolling in her grave, my father would be too if I thought he was thin enough to accomplish it!”

The dwarves wanted to know why he had ever been brought at all, why he could not stick to his friends and come along with them, and why the wizard had not chosen someone with more sense. 

"He has been more trouble than use so far," said Gloin. "If we have got to' go back now into those abominable tunnels to look for him, then drat him, I say." 

Gandalf answered angrily. "I brought him, and I don't bring things that are of no use. Either you help me to look for him, or I go and leave you here to get out of the mess as best you can yourselves. If we can only find him again, you will thank me before all is over. Whatever did you want to go and leave him for, Nori?" 

"You would have left him," said Nori, "if a goblin had suddenly grabbed your leg from behind in the dark, tripped up your feet, and kicked you in the back! He looked safe enough, they weren’t bothering him, it was us they cared about!" 

"Then why didn't you get him, or make him come with us?" Bella demanded.

"Good heavens! Can you ask! Goblins fighting and biting in the dark, everybody falling over bodies and hitting one another! Thorin was stabbing here, there, and everywhere with Orcrist. All of a sudden Gandalf here gave one of his blinding flashes, and we saw the goblins running back yelping. You shouted 'follow me everybody!' and everybody ought to have followed. We thought everybody had. There was no time to count, as you know quite well, till we had dashed through the gateguards, out of the lower door, and helter skelter down here. And here we are without the burglar, confusticate him!" 

“Well then,” Bella said desperately, “Where could he have gone?” 

“Aye,” said Gandalf, “What happened exactly?” 

“I’ll tell you what happened,” Thorin replied angrily, “He saw his chance and he took it. He’s thought of nothing but his soft bed and his warm harth since the first moment that he stepped out of his door. We will not be seeing that young hobbit again. He is long gone.” 

Bella had tears streaming down her face. Thorin knelt in front of her, “Is this not better, MIss Baggins, to know that he is going home, where he will be safe. He’s gone, Bella. He’s gone.” 

For a brief, terrible moment, Bilbo braced himself against the back of a tree and pondered this. He was a burden, he didn’t know as much about fighting as the others did, and he wasn’t of age yet, so all he was good for in terms of Magic were simpler spells. He hadn’t held them back, sure, but neither had he managed to be the thing that pushed him forward. He knew that he wasn’t thought all that much of, in terms of dwarvish opinion. What if he did leave? Would Bell be better off? He knew Thorin and the others all cared for her, and maybe they saw something in her that they didn’t see in him. He rolled the ring over his finger. He wasn’t what they needed, was he? No, better he leave now. 

But just then Bella let out a sob, “But Thorin, he promised. 

That he did.

"And here's the second burglar!" said Bilbo stepping down into the middle of them, and slipping off the ring. “Are we all here?”

Bless me, how they jumped! Then they shouted with surprise and delight. Bella limped forward on her busted ankle, and Bilbo had her brace herself on his shoulders as he ran a hand down her leg. One breath in and the break was healed with no evidence that it had ever been broken in the first place. Bella clutched him to her tightly. 

“Together,” she whispered. 

“Together.” he agreed. He stood by his word. He would follow her off the very edge of the world, all she had to do was ask.

“Bilbo Baggins. I have never been so glad to see anyone in all my life.”

“Bilbo, we’d given you up!” Kili said with a smile. 

“How on earth did you get past the goblins?” Fili added, “For that matter, how on earth did you get past Balin?” 

“How indeed,” Dwalin mumbled with a look up the mountain at where his brother still sat, oblivious to the commotion below him. 

Gandalf was as astonished as any of them, but probably more pleased than all the others. He called to Balin and told him what he thought of a lookout man who let people walk right into them like that without warning. It is a fact that Bilbo's reputation went up a very great deal with the dwarves after this. If they had still doubted that he was really a first class burglar, in spite of Gandalf's words, they doubted no longer. 

Balin was the most puzzled of all; but everyone said it was a very clever bit of work, Bilbo bieng able to sneak past him unnoticed. For all that he was the eldest of them, arguments could be made (and indeed they had been) and won that Balin was the sharpest of the lot, and had the best hearing besides. To the dwarves, Bilbo being able to walk right into the little clearing without the old dwarf noticing was something to be spoken of repeatedly. Not even Nori was able to get past Balin, and he was a world class thief!

Indeed Bilbo was so pleased with their praise that he just chuckled inside and said nothing whatsoever about the ring; and when they asked him how he did it, he said: "O, just crept along, you know, very carefully and quietly." For such was the nature of hobbits. 

He looked down at Bella where she had wrapped her arms around his middle and had not let go, not even for a moment. She blinked up at him with a smile, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

"Well, it is the first time that even a mouse has crept along carefully and quietly under my very nose and not been spotted," said Balin, "and I take off my hood to you." Which he did. "Balin at your service," said he. 

"Your servant, Mr. Baggins," said Bilbo with a laugh. “Well, I’ll be your servant later, for you see I’m currently employed.” 

Then they wanted to know all about his adventures after they had lost him, and he sat down and briefly told them everything except about the finding of the ring ("not just now" he thought). They were particularly interested in the riddle competition, and shuddered most appreciatively at his description of Gollum. 

"And then I couldn't think of any other question with him sitting beside me," ended Bilbo; "so I said 'what's in my pocket?' And he couldn't guess in three goes. So I said: 'what about your promise? Show me the way out!' But he came at me in anger, and I ran, and fell over, and he missed me in the dark. Then I saw you lot running past, so I jumped over him and followed you."  
"What about guards?" Bella asked. "Weren't there any? I would imagine they tried to follow us out and only couldn't because of the daylight." 

"O yes! lots of them; but I dodged 'em. I got stuck in the door, which was only open a trifle, and I lost lots of buttons," he said sadly looking at his torn clothes. "But I squeezed through all right and here I am." 

The dwarves looked at him with quite a new respect (well, in complete honesty, Thorin did not. He was slightly angry and very confused you see.) , when he talked about dodging guards, jumping over Gollum, and squeezing through, as if it was not very difficult or very alarming. 

"What did I tell you?" said Gandalf laughing. "Mr. Baggins has more about him than you guess." 

He gave Bilbo a queer look from under his bushy eyebrows, as he said this, and the hobbit wondered if he guessed at the part of his tale that he had left out. Then he had questions of his own to ask, for if Gandalf had explained it all by now to the dwarves, Bilbo had not heard it. He wanted to know how the wizard had turned up again, and where they had all got to now. The wizard, to tell the truth, never minded explaining his cleverness more than once, so now he had told Bilbo that both he and Elrond had been well aware of the presence of evil goblins in that part of the mountains. 

But their main gate used to come out on a different pass, one more easy to travel by, so that they often caught people benighted near their gates. Evidently people had given up going that way, and the goblins must have opened their new entrance at the top of the pass the dwarves had taken, quite recently, because it had been found quite safe up to now. 

"I must see if I can't find a more or less decent giant to block it up again," said Gandalf, "or soon there will be no getting over the mountains at all. A very ticklish business, it was. Touch and go!" 

But, of course, Gandalf had made a special study of bewitchments with fire and lights (even the hobbit had never forgotten the magic fireworks at Old Took's midsummereve parties, as you remember). The rest we all know except that Gandalf knew all about the backdoor, as the goblins called the lower gate, where Bilbo lost his buttons. As a matter of fact it was well known to anybody who was acquainted with this part of the mountains; but it took a wizard to keep his head in the tunnels and guide them in the right direction. 

"They made that gate ages ago," he said, "partly for a way of escape, if they needed one; partly as a way out into the lands beyond, where they still come in the dark and do great damage. They guard it always and no one has ever managed to block it up. They will guard it doubly after this," he laughed. 

All the others laughed too. After all they had lost a good deal, but they had killed the Great Goblin and a great many others besides, and they had all escaped, so they might be said to have had the best of it so far. 

But the wizard called them to their senses. "We must be getting on at once, now we are a little rested," he said. "They will be out after us in hundreds when night comes on; and already shadows are lengthening. They can smell our footsteps for hours and hours after we have passed. We must be miles on before dusk. There will be a bit of moon, if it keeps fine, and that is lucky. Not that they mind the moon much, but it will give us a little light to steer by."

“No,” Thorin said, “We will not. We will not go until I have had my say.” 

“And just what say are you planning on having, your Madge?” Bella asked sharply. 

Thorin fixed Bilbo with a hard stare. “Why did you come back?” 

“Oh what does it matter,” Gandalf blustered, “He’s back!”

“It matters,” Thorin snapped at the Wizard. He fixed his glare on Bilbo once more, “I want to know. Why did you come back!”

“Well it’s not as if I had anywhere else to go to, was there?!” Bilbo shouted, “We’ve nowhere and no one but each other, I wasn’t going to leave her with you lot.” 

“What do you mean lad?” Bofur asked. 

“Look, I know you doubt me.” This was said to Thorin with no concern for anyone else, “I know you always have. You’re right, I often think of Bag End. I miss my books. And my father’s armchair. My mother’s garden. See, that’s where I belonged. That was home. But we are more alike than you think, your Royal Gruffness. And that’s why I came back, because like me, like us, you don’t have one. A home. It was taken from you just like mine, though granted the theft of yours was considerably more violent. But I will help you to take it back, if I can. And if we survive, it is my hope that there might be some room for a smial in that great mountain of yours. Nothing too terribly large, mind, but comfortable.” 

All of the dwarves eyed him solemnly, some with tears in their eyes. They were also confused, however. 

“What’s he on about lass,” Gloin asked Bella (for Thorin and Bilbo were currently locked in a staring contest of unknown ending time), “What’s he saying happened to that nice place of yours back in the Shire?” 

“Well, from about a week before you got there, it stopped being ours. Or rather, it stopped being mine.” 

“Belladonna Baggins, what do you mean?” The demand of course came from Gandalf.

She huffed exasperatedly. “I’m not married.”

The dwarves all blinked. “Well, what’s the problem about that then?” Kili asked, “We like you just fine.” 

“The problem,” she said, “Is that I’m not married, nor is Bilbo of age. Because of this, hobbit law says that the next oldest male takes control of the property in trust until the heir comes of age. I’m not allowed to take trust because I don’t have a husband. I thought our grandfather might make an exception for us, but the law is the law. Our cousins came to evict me and tell me that they were taking guardianship of Bilbo the first day Gandalf came to us speaking of an adventure.” 

They all gaped at her. 

“What do you mean you can’t inherit?” This from Gloin, who was a banker and a lawman in the Blue Mountain settlement. 

“Well, I just explained it to you. Our laws don’t allow it. It’s one of the main reasons why we came with you, to earn enough money to either buy back Bag End or make a new home for ourselves elsewhere.” 

“But they can take it from you,” Ori said in confusion, “With no warning.” 

“Well, I had a week of warning.” 

“But that’s luncacny, and thievery, and not even the kind I would participate in!” Nori exclaimed. 

Bella spread her hands helplessly. “I didn’t make the law, and like I said I thought that our grandfather the Thain might hold off, after all Mam was his favorite, but he signed the deed over, and there was nothing he could do. I don’t think that he could do much in the first place, for Bag End was a Baggins property, not a Took.” 

Balin held a hand up, “Who did you say your grandfather was, lass?” 

“Why, the Thain of course. Though he’s probably letting all the uncles do the work until the Mother calls him home at this point.” 

Balin paled. “Oh dear.” 

“What’s the matter brother,” Oin demanded, “Do ye feel faint? Are you hurt somewhere you didn’t tell us?” 

Balin pointed a shaky finger at the Baggins siblings. Bilbo broke his staring contest with Thorin to eye the old dwarf strangely. 

“The Thain. The Thain is your grandfather.” 

“Well yes, we’ve established this!”

“What of it?” Bilbo asked, “It’s not as if he did anything to help us.” 

Balin turned to his King. “Thorin, we’ve kidnapped hobbit royalty.” 

“Hold on now,” Bilbo said, holding up his hand, “The Thain is not a king.” 

“But he’s the closest thing to it.” Balin replied. 

“How do you know about our grandfather anyway?” 

“We met several years ago to try and reach a trade agreement.” Thorin replied, “We did not agree.” 

“Why not?” Bella wanted to know.

“One of his conditions was the hand of his youngest grand-daughter in marriage to one of our nobles.”

“You mean to you Thorin,” Balin cut in, “We don’t believe in forced marriage. Political maybe, but he refused to inform the lass before we agreed, so it didn’t come to anything.” 

Bella had turned white. Bilbo rubbed her back soothingly. He looked at the troop of dwarves. “She’s the youngest granddaughter right now. All the rest of us are boys.” 

Bella was incredibly, terribly, horribly upset, but it was very amusing to see the Dwarf King choke on air. 

Bilbo and Bella’s hobbit ears quirked. They could hear someone calling out in the distance, and the words sent shudders through them. They sounded dark, and evil. Any further conversation they might have had was interrupted by the howl of a warg in the distance. They were becoming quite adept at telling the difference between a warg and a wolf. 

“Out of the frying pan,” Thorin hissed, lifting Orcist. 

“And into the fire,” Gandalf finished, “Run. RUN!!!”

Oh bebother and confusticate it, Bilbo was quite tired of running.


	23. Of Frying Pans and Fires

Oh, bebother and confusticate it, Bella was quite tired of running. 

But run she did. They all ran, at the urging of the Wizard. “Come on!”

Behind them, they could hear the howls and thundering footfalls of warges growing ever nearer. They ran, and they ran, and they ran, and Bella didn’t think they would ever stop running. They darted through the woods, leaping over rocks and trees as they moved. Thankfully, Bella was able to keep pace this time (the downhill slope certainly helped) and so did not end up like a sack of potatoes over Dwalin’s shoulder. They ran, and they ran, until they could run no more. Not for lack of trying, you see, but they had reached the edge of a cliff, and there was nothing in front of them, and only wargs behind. 

Bella stopped and put her hands on her knees, leaning down and panting heavily. This was a good thing, for just as she had leaned down a warg leaped over her head. It landed not ten feet in front of her, and she quite thought she was done for when it lunged for her. She would have been, that is, if Bilbo had not jumped in front of her with his sword drawn. In the end, the warg caused its own demise: in lunging at Bella it forced Bilbo’s sword deep into its skull. 

Bella watched her brother let go of his blade as the warg fell backwards, and she could see the shock and horror in his eyes. The pack was upon them now, and all around her dwarves were fighting wargs. Little Ori had somehow ended up with someone’s war-hammer, and the thing proved to be too much weight for him. He tried to swing it, but only served in having it fall backwards. Thankfully, it struck the warg behind him right between the eyes only moments before he became a meaty mouthful. 

They quickly disposed of the rest of the animals with a few well-placed stabs before looking at the cliff edge in despair. There was nowhere to go. Or so they thought. 

"Up the trees quick!" cried Gandalf; and they ran to the trees at the edge of the glade, hunting for those that had branches fairly low, or were slender enough to swarm up. They found them as quick as ever they could, you can guess; and up they went as high as ever they could trust the branches. 

You would have laughed (from a safe distance), if you had seen the dwarves sitting up in the trees with their beards dangling down, like old gentlemen gone cracked and playing at being boys. Fili and Kili were at the top of a tall larch like an enormous Christmas tree. Dori, Nori, On, Oin, and Gloin were more comfortable in a huge pine with regular branches sticking out at intervals like the spokes of a wheel. Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, and Thorin were in another. Dwalin and Balin had swarmed up a tall slender fir with few branches and were trying to find a place to sit in the greenery of the topmost boughs. Dwalin had caught hold of Bella and yanked her up behind him, and she was once again perched on his back. She decided she rather liked it.   
Gandalf, who was a good deal taller than the others, had found a tree into which they could not climb, a large pine standing at the very edge of the glade. He was quite hidden in its boughs, but you could see his eyes gleaming in the moon as he peeped out.

And Bilbo? It was some seconds before Bella realized that no one had caught hold of Bilbo. He had ignored the warning when Gandalf had given it, and he was trying to pull his sword out of the wargs head. The task was proving to be quite futile. 

“Look here, you fool of a Took!” Bella screamed, “Make like a squirrel and climb!” 

“They’re coming!” Thorin shouted. 

Bilbo finally got the idea to plant his large hobbit foot down as he tugged, and was able to free his blade. Bella watched in exasperation as her brother did a little victory dance. As he turned, he caught sight of the rest of the warg pack descending down the mountain towards him. He could not get into any tree, and was scuttling about from trunk to trunk, like a rabbit that has lost its hole and has a dog after it.

"You've left the burglar behind again!" said Dori to Nori looking down. 

"I can't always be looking after burglars," said Nori, "down tunnels and up trees! What do you think I am? A porter?" 

“Somebody get him please!” Bella cried. 

"He'll be eaten if we don't do something," said Thorin, for there were howls all around them now, getting nearer and nearer. 

"Dori!" he called, for Dori was lowest down in the easiest tree, "be quick, and give him a hand up!" 

Dori was really a decent fellow in spite of his grumbling. Poor Bilbo could not reach his hand even when he climbed down to the bottom branch and hung his arm down as far as ever he could. He was tall for a hobbit, but truly short for a dwarf. So Dori actually climbed out of the tree and let Bilbo scramble up and stand on his back.

Just at that moment the wolves trotted howling into the clearing. All of a sudden there were hundreds of eyes looking at them. Still Dori did not let Bilbo down. He waited till he had clambered off his shoulders into the branches, and then he jumped for the branches himself. Only just in time! A wolf snapped at his cloak as he swung up, and nearly got him. But only nearly.   
“Got him!” Dori cried. 

Bella let out a sigh of relief. 

In a minute there was a whole pack of them yelping all round the tree and leaping up at the trunk, with eyes blazing and tongues hanging out. But even the wild Wargs (for so the evil wolves over the Edge of the Wild were named) cannot climb trees. For a time they were safe. 'Luckily it was warm and not windy. Trees are not very comfortable to sit in for long at any time; but in the cold and the wind, with wolves all round below waiting for you, they can be perfectly miserable places.

They all looked down to see the disgusting animals snapping at their heels. Bella looked desperately at Gandalf, only to witness him appearing to have a conversation with a rather pretty butterfly. 

Oh by the Mother, he’s gone mad, she thought in despair. 

The butterfly flew away, and the wargs beneath them stopped their snapping and turned. The dwarves and hobbits followed their gaze, and Bella heard Thorin suck in a deep breath. 

“Bolg of the North,” he whispered, “It cannot be.” 

The Pale Orc was seated on top of the largest and whitest of the wargs. He moved calmly, seeming uncaring in his actions. He was grinning evilly up at them, stuck in the trees as they were. He said something in the Black Speech of Orcs, and though Bella did not understand it was obvious that Thorin did. She pressed every closer to Dwalin, who could also understand what was being said. He was shaking like a leaf underneath Bella’s grasp. She turned her eyes back to Thorin. His face was awash with pain and grief. It was so pained that Bella wanted to cry at the sight of it. Bolg continued to speak, and though it was not comprehensible, the intentions of the foul creature was clear. 

He lifted his mace in his hands, and the hoards of wargs and orcs gathered around him converged on the trees. The foul things were not able to reach the Company in the trees, but the weight of them attempting to by climbing the lower branches and snapping at the feet of the dwarves and hobbits knocked down one of the trees, which crashed into another tree, which crashed into another. They all fell down, dwarves and hobbits screaming as they fell towards the ground. 

“Go!” Dwalin shouted, swinging Bella over to the branch nearest to them, “Go!”

“What do we do?” Bilbo cried. 

“Jump!” Bella replied. 

Taking the chance, they all lept from tree to tree, finally landing on the last tree on the edge of the cliff, which was the only one that held. It was the oldest tree on the cliff, and its roots were buried deep. Bella scurried up to a branch near Bilbo, and clasped his hand in hers. 

All the same he was not going to let them have it all their own way, though he could not do very much stuck up in a tall tree with wargs all round on the ground below. He gathered the huge pinecones from the branches of his tree, then he set one alight with bright blue fire, and threw it whizzing down among the circle of the wargs. It struck one on the back, and immediately his shaggy coat caught fire, and he was leaping to and fro yelping horribly. 

Then another came and another, one in blue flames, one in red, another in green. They burst on the ground in the middle of the circle and went off in coloured sparks and smoke. A specially large one hit the chief warg on the nose, and he leaped in the air ten feet, and then rushed round and round the circle biting and snapping even at the other wolves in his anger and fright. The dwarves, Bella and Bilbo shouted and cheered. Bella and Bilbo reached for the pinecones nearest to them, copying Gandalf and lighting them as swiftly as they could.

“Here Fili!” Bella called, tossing one down to him. 

“Nori!” Bilbo hollered. 

The dwarves below them caught the offered fireballs, and those next to him pulled pine cones from the branches they were perched on. By sharing the flame, they soon had many fireballs to throw down at the creatures below. Bella looked back down to see that Ori still had his slingshot. 

“Ori, here!” She tossed several of the flaming cones down to him, and he lobbed them down into the pack swiftly. 

The rage of the wolves was terrible to see, and the commotion they made filled all the forest. Wargs are afraid of fire at all times, but this was a most horrible and uncanny fire, for it was a magic fire. If a spark got in their coats it stuck and burned into them, and unless they rolled over quickly they were soon all in flames. Very soon all about the glade wargs were rolling over and over to put out the sparks on their backs, while those that were burning were running about howling and setting others alight, till their own friends chased them away and they fled off down the slopes crying and yammering and looking for water. 

The dwarves cried out in joy as the wargs retreated, and their cries grew ever louder at the shout of frustration of Bolg. 

Their joy was short lived, however, for the roots of the tree had finally had enough, and it was falling, falling ever down. When it finally hit the edge, it did so with a jolt that shook the branches so horrendously that it threw several dwarves off  
. Ori slipped down first, only to be caught by Dori. Unfortunately, the older dwarf also fell, pulled down by the added weight of his brother. 

“Mister Gandalf,” Dori begged. 

“Your staff, Gandalf, your staff!” Bella cried. 

Gandalf looked down and thrust his staff towards the pair. Dori caught it just as soon as his hands were about to fall off the branch. 

“Hold on Dori!” Nori cried, “Hold on!” He eyed his brothers in desperation. 

Bilbo slid down his own branch and Bella caught him just in time, grasping his arms tightly. 

“I got you!” she cried. 

“I know.”

She pulled him up with everything she had and managed to get him up on the branch next to her. They looked around at the Company in despair. She held his hand tightly in hers and gave him a sad smile, pressing her forehead against his gently. 

“Together.” They whispered. 

Maybe it was the sight of this tender exchange that inspired him. (And if it was, Bella had no issue turning him over her knee like a naughty faunt.) Maybe it was the sight of Bolg grinning over the flames. Or maybe it was just his own desperation in trying to provide his people with a way out. Bella didn’t know. 

Whatever the reason, when Bella looked up; it was to catch sight of Thorin with Orcist drawn, sprinting down the tree through the flames. 

“Thorin, NO!”

His famed oakenshield in one hand, his sword in the other, Thorin sprinted his mortal enemy. He never even stood a chance. So distracted was he by the thought of striking down Bolg that he didn’t gave a thought or care to the warg the Pale Orc was mounted on. Bolg waited in heady anticipation until Thorin was finally close enough, and then all he had to do was give his mount the order to jump. The beast did so instantly, and Thorin was knocked down by the forceful blow of his front paws. 

He fell backwards, the air rushing out of him in a pained gasp. He stood up slowly, only to be thrown back down again when Bolg swung his mace. 

Behind her, Dwalin was screaming. All the dwarves were, but Balin and Dwalin sound the most deperate. Dwalin attempted to run down the tree after his king, but the branch beneath him broke. Bella barely had enough time to catch it with her Magic: she stretched out her hand and used a quick stitching spell to fuse the wood back together. Dwalin had to climb back up to the trunk on his own, but at least he was no longer in danger of falling. 

She looked beyond him behind her. Dori and Ori were about to fall, Dori’s grasp on Gandalf’s staff was slipping down. Balin had tears streaming down his face. Dwalin was climbing back up his branch, but he would never make it in time. None of them would. 

She glanced back at Thorin. He was in the mouth of the warg now, being thrown about like a ragdoll. Bella screamed. 

The warg finally release him and he was thrown back onto the rocks. Next to her, Bella heard a sword being drawn. It was Bilbo. He gave his sister a desperate look, and darted down the trunk of the burning tree. She remembered the blade she had stuffed down her pants back in the goblin caves, and looking down she realized that it was still caught in her waistband. She pulled it out, uncaring of the damage that it left behind, and followed Bilbo. 

Ahead of her, he had knocked down the orc that had been approaching Thorin with its sword drawn. He stabbed it as violently as she wanted to stab Lobelia Sackville-Baggins whenever the hag invited herself over for tea. He stood in front of Thorin with his little sword pointed at the Plae Orc. Bella slid down on her knees to crouch over the now unconscious dwarf. 

“You’ll not touch him!” Bilbo shouted. 

“You’ll never touch him!” Bella bared her teeth at the enemy. 

With several words from the Pale Orc, all the others in his foul band of fiends began to creep towards the trio menacingly. And for all their bravery, Bella knew there was no making it out of this. What could two little hobbits, even with Magic, hope to do against an entire pack of orcs? Yes, she had burned and killed goblins, but there wasn’t a single drop left in her at the moment, not after she fixed Dwalin’s branch. She had exhausted herself so entirely that her bumps and scrapes weren’t even healing. Time would replenish her stores, but they didn’t have that kind of time. She reached across Thorin’s body and strapped his shield to her forearm. 

“Well come on then!” Bella couldn’t help but sass, “Let’s get on with it, I’m getting old over here! Can’t ever find a decent enemy that’ll kill you in record time.”

Bolg glared at her.

Bilbo looked back at his sister with a sad grin. 

“I love you.” she told him. 

He nodded. They were out of time. 

Only they weren’t. The distraction Bella and Bilbo had provided had given some of the dwarves enough time to make it down the tree. They dove in front of the hobbits, slicing, and dicing, and killing. Bella looked, and there was Nori, and Dwalin, and Fili and Kili. All the rest were still caught in the tree, but it was enough. They drew the attention of Bolg’s three leutainants away from Thorin. 

They did not, however, draw the attention of Bolg himself. 

Bilbo took care of that in short order. Now, do not mistake me, he was no match for the Pale Orc on his own. But with what his mother and Dwalin had taught him, even as terrified as he was he was able to make the mount of the Pale Orc very uncomfortable. Bolg lunged forward on his beast only for Bilbo to cut it across it’s muzzle. He growled at the little hobbit and lunged forth again. This second attempt cost it its’ eye. Bilbo stabbed the thing clean through, and when the beast fell back howling in pain, the eye stuck to the tip of his sword. Bilbo retched in disgust, falling backwards slightly. 

If Bella had been looking back, she would have seen a butterfly land on Gandalf’s hat. The Wizard looked up at it cross-eyed for a moment before breathing a sigh of relief. Just then, Dori and Ori fell, for Dori had finally lost hold of the Wizard’s staff. They screamed as they fell, only to be cut off as they landed on the back of a very beautiful and very large Eagle. 

And then there were eagles all around them, grabbing wargs and orcs and throwing them off the cliff. Their numbers were dwindling rapidly. One bird flew through the flames and caught Thorin up in his great claws, knocking Bella back. It chirped to her in apology as it flew off down the cliff. Once they threw enough wargs and orcs to make a difference, they began to catch the dwarves. Bella looked on as one caught up her brother, and then she screamed when it quite literally threw him off the cliff like it had done with the wargs. She dove down to the edge, only to see Bilbo land on the back of another Eagle. She breathed a sigh of relief. Looking up, she realized that it was only her and Gandalf left. 

A growl came from behind her, and she turned to see Bolg inching towards her. She stood up slowly, her blade grasped tightly in one hand and Thorin’s shield strapped to the next. She couldn’t help herself. She spit at him. This only served to anger him further, and he raised his mace in preparation for a charge. He was too late. Below her, she heard the sound of wind rushing over wings. Bella gave him a saucy grin, bowed, and stepped over the edge.


	24. Of Mountain Tops

Bilbo would admit readily that even though he knew there was an Eagle waiting to catch Bella as she fell, it was still a terror to see her jump off a cliff as if she had been doing it all her life. He did not stop watching until the hobbit lass was safely clutching the feathers beneath her. Her Eagle beat its great wings steadily, and soon it flew abreast of its brother who was carrying Bilbo. In front of them were all the dwarves, and Gandalf too, with Thorin being carried at the head of the flock. 

At the best of times heights made Bilbo giddy. He used to turn queer if he looked over the edge of quite a little cliff; and he had never liked ladders, let alone trees (never having had to escape from wolves before). So you can imagine how his head swam now, when he looked down and saw the dark lands opening wide underneath him, touched here and there with the light of the moon on a hill side rock or a stream in the plains. But for all his fear in their current predicament, he couldn’t help but be glad they escaped. 

Bilbo grinned at his sister, who let out a hysterical laugh. They could hear the furious screams of Bolg behind them, but they didn’t care. 

Eagles are not kindly birds. Some are cowardly and cruel. But the ancient race of the northern mountains were the greatest of all birds; they were proud and strong and noblehearted. They did not love goblins, or fear them. When they took any notice of them at all (which was seldom, for they did not eat such creatures ), they swooped on them and drove them shrieking back to their caves, and stopped whatever wickedness they were doing. The goblins hated the eagles and feared them, but could not reach their lofty seats, or drive them from the mountains. Gandalf had summoned them, and they had arrived just in time. 

Their two eagles caught up with the rest. Bilbo looked around at all the dwarves, expecting to see happy expressions on their faces. They all looked worried, however, and when he turned to see what they were staring at he realized that Thorin was still unconscious and bleeding steadily from the side of him that the warg had chomped on. He glanced over at Bella, who was looking at the Dwarf King with a very terrified face. 

“Thorin!” Fili cried desperately, but there was no response. 

He wasn’t sure how long they flew, for the minutes felt like hours as he watched the blood drip down Thorin’s fingers. They finally landed on another cliff (you will of course excuse Bilbo for saying very nasty and unhobbity things at this landing), and one by one the Eagles dropped them off onto the mountain. Thorin was set down first, laid as gently as they could. 

Gandalf was next, and he ran to the dwarf, shouting his name as he slid down next to him. One by one, all the dwarves gathered around their King. Bella and Bilbo were let down last, and his sister ran in front of him to knock some of the dwarves back. 

“Move,” she cried, “Damn you, move!”

Dwalin grabbed her by the arms to pull her back, and Bilbo looked on as she actually raised her sword to the throat of the dwarf. “Move,” she said menacingly, “Or watch him die.” Dwalin stared at her for several long, dragging moments before he took a slow step back. 

Bella whirled on him then, and Bilbo held up his hands defensively. She looked like Fatty Bolger did that one Midsummer Festival, when something went wrong with the tables and everyone had to wait to eat. There was a desperate fear in her eyes. Gandalf was leaning over Thorin, muttering something lowly. Bella threw her hand backwards with a shout, and the Wizard fell over like he had been struck between the eyes. 

“Leave it for someone who knows what they’re doing!” she cried. “You’re a Wizard, not a hobbit. 

She turned tear filled eyes onto him. “Bilbo,” she begged, “Please.” 

He nodded, moving forward and kneeling down beside Thorin. All the dwarves were staring at the hobbits, some in anger, some in fear, some in desperation. Bella collapsed then, and Dwalin barely caught her before her head struck the rock. Bilbo wasn’t too worried about her, for he knew she had most likely pushed herself to the point of exhaustion and he would see her in a moment. Thorin was the most pressing. 

Laying his hands on either side of Thorin’s chest, Bilbo leaned in close and closed his eyes. He reached out with unseeing hands, stroking, pressing, assessing. He had at least four broken ribs, a sprained ankle, several large puncture wounds and lacerations, and a nasty concussion. Bilbo breathed, and his hands grew warm. The dwarves looked on in astonishment as Thorin began to glow very brightly as Bilbo worked, whispering hobbitish under his breath as he moved his hands all around Thorin. Several moments later he sat back on his feet with a gasp. 

“I’ve done all I can do,” he panted, “The rest is up to him.” 

He scooted over to Dwalin, who handed off Bella swiftly in order to rush to Thorin. Bilbo clasped her to him and rocked back and forth for several minutes, letting his Magic flow through the both of them. He could heal her hurts, but he couldn’t do anything for the terrible exhaustion she was feeling.

She blinked up at him. “Thorin?” 

“I did what I could,” he told her, “But not even I can do anything about blood loss. It’s all up to him now. I healed the body, he has to want to come back to it.” 

She pressed a hand to his chin lightly. “Thank you.” 

He stood up slowly, stretching his back with a crack. He held a hand down to her and pulled her up beside him. “You’re going to have to stop dancing around him.”

She glared at him as she steadied herself, “I don’t know what you mean.” 

He gave her a knowing glance, “You look at him the same way our parents looked at each other once. If he’s not your Other Half, I don’t know who is.” 

Bella stuck her tongue out at him childishly. They both turned back to the dwarves. 

Kili took his uncle's head in his hands, leaning down to press their foreheads together. “Thorin,” he whispered, “Come back. We’re waiting.” 

Fili was kneeling next to him, squeezing his hands tightly.   
Gandalf had sat up, and was staring at Bella with a very cross look on his face. He rubbed the spot between his eyes, and Bella gave him a half-apologetic shrug in response. 

Thorin blinked then, and let out a low moan. He reached up to stroke one of Kili’s braids, and the younger dwarf let out a wet sounding sigh. Fili drew in closer as his uncle grasped his hand. 

“The hobbit?” Thorin whispered. 

“It’s alright,” Gandalf said soothingly, “Bilbo is here. He is very quite safe. Him and Bella both.” 

Bilbo and Bella both let out a sigh of relief, as did everyone else. Bella threw her arms around her brother and held him close. “Thank you.” she told him again. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. 

They stayed there like that, clasped together as Thorin rolled over and began to stand very unsteadily. 

“Easy there,” Bilbo said, “I can do a lot, but I can’t give you back the blood you’ve lost. I’d rather you not undo all my work.” 

Dwalin and Kili grasped him under the arms and helped him to stand. As he got to his feet he glared at the hobbits in front of him. He shook off the hands on his arms. 

“You,” he demanded, “What were you doing?” 

Well. That certainly was not the reaction he was expecting. Bilbo frowned, and as Thorin stalked towards him he instinctively pushed Bella behind him. She yelped in protest, but became silent when he glared at her. He may have been the younger of the two Baggins hobbits, but he had learned to give the Glare that his mother had given them whenever they snuck out and stole Farmer Maggots prizewinning vegetables. He turned back to the dwarf. 

“Did I not say that you would be a burden?” 

Really, was it to much to ask for a little gratitude? Nothing to large, mind, Bilbo had no need of titles or anything of the like, but a simple polite ‘thank you’ would have been nice. Thorin was a king, surely he had learned how to be polite at some point in his life.

All the rest were looking at Thorin strangely, but none of them moved to stop him. 

“That you would not survive in the wild?” 

Bilbo sighed in concentration. Well, if they were back to this, then so be it. He would demand a large apology later, once his Royal Ass stopped being such a Royal Ass. 

“That you have no place amongst us…” 

Well, that one hurt more than a little. Bilbo stared at the ground resignedly. Thorin was directly in front of him now, looking down with a slight sneer. Bilbo swallowed the lump in his throat, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t have to blink back a tear or two. 

Gandalf opened his mouth to say something, but shut it again when he caught sight of the Glare that Bilbo bestowed upon him. Bilbo may not have been of age yet, but he was very much a grown hobbit and did not need any assistance in dealing with Royal Asses, thank you very much. 

The sneer vanished from Thorin’s face, transforming into a look of happiness and gratitude. Bilbo was stunned speechless to see that he was being smiled at by the Dwarf King. 

“I have never been so wrong in all my life.” 

Bilbo felt Bella take several steps back as Thorin embraced her brother tightly, uncaring of the areas of him that were still sore. The dwarves behind Thorin were cheering very loudly. Thorin leaned back slightly, still holding onto Bilbo. He looked him in the face apologetically. “I am sorry I doubted you.” 

“No,” Bilbo said firmly, “It’s alright. I would have doubted me too. After all, I did faint at the mere mention of a dragon.” They all giggled at the memory. “I am not a hero, I’m not a warrior.” He cut a look at Gandalf. “I’m not even a burglar. I’m a hobbit. I’m a healer. And that’s just fine with me.” 

Thorin smiled at him again before something caught his eye behind the hobbit. “What’s this,” he whispered slowly, moving beyond Bilbo.   
“And you…” he started to demand, but Bella stopped him from speaking by placing her hand very firmly over his mouth. 

“Nope,” she said, and Bilbo couldn’t help but giggle, “You doubted me, you’re sorry, and I understand why, and that’s all we’re going to say about it. I don’t care much for speeches.” 

Bilbo knew his sister, and he knew this to be true. She was very much a hobbit of action, and those spoke much louder to her than words ever could. If the Dwarf King truly wanted to try something out with his sister (and he largely suspected that he did) then he better figure that out, and fast. Bilbo pondered if he should say something without Bell’s knowledge, but concluded with a private chuckle that he would much rather have the enjoyment of watching the two of them flounder around one another. He did make a private note to ask the other dwarves about dwarvish courting customs. 

After all, they seemed to consider the two of them some type of hobbitsh royalty (even if the Thain was indeed not a king, he appeared to be in their thoughts) and it would not do for a King to improperly court a Princess. 

He chuckled again. 

Thorin yanked his sister forward and pressed her tightly against him. Bilbo let out a happy sigh. Yes, this would do very nicely. Indeed. Thorin froze and drew back, eyeing his sisters arm. 

“My shield.” he said with wonder. 

Bella pulled back slowly and looked at the piece of wood still strapped to her arm. “Mine now, I think.” she said thoughtfully. She gave Thorin one of her cheeky grins, “After all, what else am I to use the next time you get into a scrape and I have to get you out of it.” 

Thorin brushed his fingers against the edge of the oak, drawing them ever upwards until he was stroking up her arm, her shoulder, her cheek. He took her chin in his hand and held her still, leaning down to press their foreheads together lightly. He leaned up and kissed her on the top of her head very tenderly, just below her hairline. 

“Thank you,” he said lowly in a tone that Bilbo had never heard before. 

The Eagles left them then, flying away. "Farewell!" they cried, "wherever you fare, till your eyries receive you at the journey's end!"

That is the polite thing to say among Eagles. Bilbo (and indeed everyone in the Company) was very shocked to know that anything could be said amongst Eagles, but who were they to judge when they were going to fight a dragon? "May the wind under your wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks,"answered Gandalf, who knew the correct reply.

It was this exchange that made Thorin lift his head, and what he saw caused him to look away with more awe in his gaze then any of them had ever seen before. 

“What is it?” Bella asked, turning in his embrace to see what he was looking at. Bilbo followed the direction they were looking in, and that was when he caught sight of it. 

“It that…” But he couldn’t continue. Instead he followed behind Thorin to the edge of the mountain they were standing on. The dwarves had followed the flight of the Eagles, and so they were facing in the opposite direction. It didn’t take long for them to turn around, and soon they were all clustered together in a bunch, staring beyond. 

They had finally reached the end of the Misty Mountains, and below them was one of the most spectacular wild views Bilbo had ever seen in all his life. It even topped the sight of Rivendell in the dawn. Below them was a valley, and a forest, and a river, and a great many other things that would take far too long to mention or record. And beyond those, many many leagues away, rose a single grey peak up from the clouds. 

“Erebor!” Gandalf proclaimed, “The Lonely Mountain. The last of the great Dwarf Kingdoms.”

Thorin placed a heavy hand on both Bilbo and Bella’s shoulders. “Our home.” 

Oin pointed to something in the distance, “Look! A raven. The birds are returning to the mountain!”

“That my dear boy,” and indeed only Gandalf could call old Oin a boy, “Is a thrush.”   
“Well,” Thorin said with a fond glance at the hobbits, “We will take it as a sign.” 

“You’re right,” Kili agreed, coming up behind Bilbo. “I do believe the worst is behind us.” 

Bilbo closed his eyes and let out a groan. Well, didn’t that just beat all! He resisted the urge to smack the Prince on the back of the head. 

Bella, of course, had no such qualms.


	25. Of Customs and Cultures

All it took was one brief moment for her brother to look down of the edge of the Carrock (for this is what Gandalf told them the mountain they were on was called) to dart back down to the middle of the mountaintop, place his bottom firmly on the rock below him, and declare he wasn’t moving another inch. 

Bella, who was very rumpled and had holes in practically everything she was wearing (not to speak of the overall soreness she was feeling). Bilbo had healed her physical injuries but she knew that she had overused herself. Magic was rather like a muscle, she supposed, and she had overexerted hers. Truthfully, she felt so weak right now she doubted she could even light a candle if she tried. 

Gandalf was looking into the distance behind them. While Bella wasn’t sure how long that they Eagles had flown them, she knew that they had gone a greater distance then she would have first guessed. 

“What are you doing?” she asked. 

“Trying to judge how far back Bolg and his monsters are,” was the Wizard’s reply, “I say we have at least three days between us, four if we’re lucky.” 

“Gandalf, when at any moment during this quest have we been lucky?” 

He nodded at her. “You’re right, my lass, best to get a move on. Come on then, it’s going to take us some hours to make it down the mountain.” 

She glanced back at her brother, who was shaking his head very firmly. 

“Nope.” he said, “Nope. No. No. I’ll be keeping my Sensible hobbit feet right here on this nice firm stone. I’ve had quite enough of mountains, and of mountain passes. I’ll be staying right here, thank you and goodbye. You can pick me up if you ever come back through.” 

“Oh brother,” Bella sighed, “You just faced down an orc pack and a little thing like height scares you?” 

He glared at her. “At least the orc pack would kill me quickly, who knows how long it would take a little thing like me to fall down the mountainside.” 

“Oh, shut it. Fix them first,” (she was talking about the dwarves of course), “then we can worry about getting you down the mountain.” 

He didn’t respond. 

“Bilbo!”

“WHAT!”

“They’re hurt,” she exclaimed, “And they need you. So stuff it, worry about it in a moment.” 

“Now, lass,” Balin said gently, “He doesn't have to if he doesn’t want to.” 

“No, no, she’s right.” Bilbo said quietly. “We promise to care for the earth and all of its creatures as a payment for the Gifts we are given. Come here, I’ll see what I can do.” 

Nori was looking at the hobbits curiously. “He said Gift, and I can sense the importance of such a word. You’ve only talked to Ori about what hobbit Magic is, mind to share with the rest of us?” 

Bella looked very uncomfortable. “Look, I understand that none of you mind prancing around naked, but you're asking for something incredibly personal.” 

“But why is it so personal?” he pressed. 

She stared at him for a moment. “Well,” she exclaimed, “You know, I don’t really know. We don’t share with outsiders, but the truth is that there were never any outsiders for us to share with. I think you are the first non-hobbits to enter the Shire without our knowledge, and well, I think we can thank Gandalf for that.” 

“But why is Gandalf allowed if no one else can cross the Boundary without a hobbit guiding them?” 

She smirked, “When has anyone ever been able to stop a Wizard from doing what he wants. And, in answer to your question, we all have Magic, but we are all Gifted in different things.” 

“Indeed, my dear,” Gandalf chuckled, “And, in all honesty, you seem to have quite the Gift for protection, if I may be so bold to say. Protection Magic so strong that it might as well be Battle Magics.” 

She blinked. “Battle Magic?” 

“Yes. It’s been a while since I have met a hobbit with abilities like yours. In fact, I think that the last one of the hobbits born with such a Gift was Bullroarer Took. It was more widely used in the days of hobbit wanderings, but now that your people have been settled in the Shire for more than a millenia it’s not surprising that it’s been fading out.” 

Not many things could stun Belladonna Baggins the Second into silence, but this did. 

“The rest of you can sort yourselves out while our hobbit is tending you.” Thorin took advantage of the quiet and spoke to his Company is what Bella would think of forevermore as his ‘leader tone’ “Most of us have lost our packs, our supplies. We were lucky enough to keep our weapons close, but food is another thing entirely.” 

Looking down, Bella realized that she had nothing but one of her swords and her sword belt. She sheathed the blade she had remaining and sighed. 

“Here, lass,” Nori said, holding out her other blade, “Grabbed it before we dipped out of the tunnels.” 

He winked at her before moving over to Ori and Dori, enveloping his brothers in his embrace. 

Bella smiled as he left her. She looked to her brother. Bilbo had set aside his fear for the moment and was running his hands up and down the arms of the dwarves one at a time, feeling them out and healing what he could. 

“Leave the bigger ones for later,” she told him, “For now all we need is to make it down the mountain. I don’t know about you lot, but I still smell like the goblin hoard. I rather need a bath.”

Look at her. Here she was, a hobbit without a smial, a girl without her parents, a Baggins without Bag End. She had fought with goblins and kissed a King. 

_Oh dear Mother._

She had _kissed_ a King. 

Thorin was standing not even ten feet from her, and he wasn’t even looking at her. He hadn’t looked at her, not since the conversation about his shield. She looked down at her arm where it was still strapped tightly. She rather liked how it looked, bound to her as it was. Not that he could ever be bound to her of course. 

She scratched at her head and winced as her fingers caught the tangles. 

“Bilbo,” she sighed, “If you’re done, I’d like you to fix this mess please.” She looked to the Company, “Has anybody got a comb tucked somewhere?” 

Well. She could’ve caught flies with how the jaws of the dwarves dropped. 

“Well?” 

“You’re going to fix your hair in front of us?” Balin croaked out. 

“Well, we’re on the top of a mountain, aren’t we?” she pointed out, “It’s not like there’s anywhere else for me to do it?” 

She couldn’t understand why they were looking at her as if she had just danced naked in front of them. 

“I need a comb.” she said heatedly, fed up with this. 

Bifur reached into his tunic slowly and drew a wooden comb from a hidden pocket. He held it out to Bella, who snatched it and plopped quickly down into Bilbo’s lap. She tossed the comb back to him, and he caught it up and began to work his way down her tangled mass of strands. 

Kili let out a strangled gasp and Fili quickly grabbed hold of him and turned him around to face the opposite direction. As Bella looked up, she noticed that all the dwarves were looking very pointedly away from her. 

For all the mess that was her hair, it quickly fell to Bilbo’s skilled fingers. 

“How do you want it?” 

“Just braid it down.” 

Thorin went white at her words. By the time Bilbo had the end of the simple braid tied off Bella was very few up.   
She stood, placing her hands on her hips. The dwarves turned back to her. Gandalf, meanwhile, was just sitting on a nearby rock smoking a pipe and grinning under his beard. 

“May I remind you that not even three weeks ago you all saw me in my underthings, practically naked. And yet, for all that, it was not my half naked body that stunned you into silence, but my brother braiding my hair that does you in?” 

“But it’s hair,” dear Ori squeaked. 

“Well, it is just hair, and I’m just a hobbit, and if this is one of those dwarvish customs or some kind of cultural difference then I’m afraid you’ll have to tell me if I’ve done something to offend you.” 

“Hair is sacred to us lass. We consider it to be our crowning glory, our gift from Mahal himself. Our braids tell our story, both in our actual hair and our beards as well. I bear warrior braids, beads gifted down through my family. Beads crafted for me by the hands of our parents. You can tell with one look who a dwarf truly is. The care of our hair is incredibly personal, only done by family members or our Ones.” Well, that was the longest speech she had ever gotten out of Dwalin. 

She looked at Balin curiously. He knew what she was asking without words. 

“I bear no braids out of respect for those we lost in the Great Calamity. I lost my One, and our son. They were in the mountain when it burned. Thorin wears his beard short in penance, until we retake the Mountain.” 

She glanced out of the corner of her eye at Thorin, who was very pointedly looking down at the ground. She shivered, feeling the chill in the air. 

“We’d best be moving on soon. Being days ahead of them will mean nothing with us on foot and them riding wargs.”

“But where will we go, Bell?” 

“Right now, Bilbo, just down the mountain. After that, who knows? One day at a time, that’s all we can think about now.” 

Bilbo remembered the reason for his previous fear and turned white. “Down the mountain! Not me, not now, not ever.” 

Bella sighed again and looked to the dwarves. They were watching the exchange with interest. 

“There’s nothing for it,” she said in resignation, feeling something unknown in her tighten with tension, “Someone’s going to have to carry him. He’s quite done with today I think, and he’ll not make it down on his own.” 

“From the looks of it, neither will you lass.” Balin looked her up and down, “You’re dead on your feet.” 

She shrugged, resisting the urge to grimace, “I just used too much, that’s all. Done more, to be honest. A little rest and I’ll be right as rain.” She was feeling very hot, and very irritated. 

“Aye, you have done a lot today” Bofur said excitedly, “And a lovely show it was, too.” 

Something in Bella snapped. She whirled on him, “Show? You think saving your sorry hides was a show? I don’t care how evil they were, they were still lives that I look without mercy! I murdered for you, I burned them in their own home, and all it is is a show? I broke my oath, and it’s entertainment for you?” 

Her voice grew louder with every word until she was shouting. She screamed curses, stomping over until she was shaking her finger in his face. 

It was all coming down on her at once, what she did, and a part of her knew that she was being hysterical but she simply couldn’t stop. Tears were streaming down her face, blurring her vision and making the horrified look on Bofur’s face unable to see. 

Strong hands wrapped around her arms and drew her back into a hard chest. She felt herself being turned, lifted, and pressed into someone’s shoulder. Only the sight of the weapons strapped to his back let her know who it was. 

“Dwalin,” she sobbed, “What have I done?” 

“Shhhh,” he soothed, “Nothing you didn’t have to. Now come on, lass, I’ve got you.”


	26. Of Bear Chases

In the end, they were both carried. Dwalin cradled Bella to him while Dori (who was indeed the strongest of all the dwarves, rivaling even Dwalin and Thorin) planted Bilbo on his shoulders and let him hold on as they bounded down the mountain path. 

The bottom of the mountain broke off into a path, which they followed. This led to a clearing in the trees, beyond which was a small lake. Bella climbed down from Dwalins arms and began shucking her clothes off, her eyes fixed on firmly ahead of her. 

Bilbo stared at his sister in horror, darting up behind her to block her from the view of the dwarves. She ignored him, stripping her trousers off and leaving herself in nothing but short breeches and a breast binder. She stepped into the water slowly, shivering as the cold wetness touched her skin. If she had looked back, she would have seen everyone staring at her, but she didn’t care.

It was red. It was all red. It was all soaked in red, red blood and it was all over her. She reached for the sand under the water, determined to be clean. She sat in the water, and started to scrub, rubbing all the sand in her hands over her skin over and over and over. She scrubbed, and scrubbed, and scrubbed until her skin was raw. And then she scrubbed some more. 

Hands touched her shoulders, and she jerked forward away from them, letting out a little shriek. 

“Hush, Bell.”

Bilbo pulled her out of the water gently and ran his arms over her shoulders. In a trice, the redness and scrapes from her furious scrubbing disappeared. “Shhhhh.” he soothed as she whimpered. The pain was gone, but the blood on her hands remained. 

Gandalf and Thorin stepped forward but Bilbo motioned them back. He drew off his coat and wrapped it around Bella. She was staring forward, seeing nothing. Tears streamed down her face as she silently cried. Bilbo turned with her cradled in his arms. 

“We need rest,” he said, “She needs rest.” 

“I can help her sleep,” Oin was gruff with his words but his gaze was soft as he stared at the little thing Bilbo was holding. 

Bilbo smiled at the dwarf sadly. “Drugged sleep is not any sleep at all. Don’t worry, I have it well in hand.”

Even in her haze, Bella knew what her brother was about to do. She both despised it and relished it. He laid his spare hand on her forehead, and she descended into a welcome darkness.   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When she woke, she was surrounded by dwarves and the Wizard. Bilbo was gone. The sky was beginning to lighten in preparation for the coming dawn. She sat up. 

“Where is my brother?” 

They all jumped. 

“He went to look behind for us.” 

“Look behind,” she said in confusion, “How long was I asleep?” 

“Nearly two days, lass,” Dwalin replied. 

She stared at him with wide eyes. “Where are we?” 

“Several leagues from the mountain, I would think. We haven’t stopped since the pond. Thorin is trying to keep as much distance between us and the orc pack as possible. It’s not easy, not with us on foot. He sent Bilbo to check how close they all.” 

Bella shrugged. “I can imagine that it wouldn’t be.” 

She stood up slowly, wincing slightly at the pull she felt in her muscles. Even through all the long weeks and months of traveling, it appeared that there were still some areas of her little hobbit body that had not been used while she lived in the Shire. Bella flexed her hands, and relaxed as the familiar feeling of the warmth of her Magic spread across her body. Looking across the path they were camped on, she offered Bofur an apologetic smile. He returned it eagerly. 

The truth was that Bella was a very simple hobbit, who only wanted a simple life with simple comforts. But she had fallen in with these dwarves, and fought and bled beside them. She had her brother to think of on this dangerous journey. She realized the truth of herself that she never thought she would consider. She had killed, yes. She would do so again if it meant protecting those she loved. And gods help her, she loved these dwarves. She loved her brother. 

She had never truly fit in in the Shire. She wanted Bag End back, but if she could make a home for Bilbo and herself in the mountain that would be just fine too. Just fine indeed. She looked up for a moment and offered a silent prayer of apology. 

_I’m sorry, Green Mother. But I think that sometimes you have to do what’s hard in order to protect the people you love._

A light breeze kissed her cheek, and a tear slipped from her eye. She wiped it away quickly before anyone could notice.

She stepped up behind Thorin, who was staring very broodingly ahead of him. 

“The way you’re glaring at those trees,” Bella remarked, “I think you might catch them on fire.” 

He started at her voice, but recovered quickly, “No, Ms. Baggins, I think it’s more likely that you would set them on fire.” Thorin (and indeed all the other dwarves to) winced as soon as the words left his mouth. 

Bella chuckled. “I wonder if the rest of the goblins enjoyed my free gift of roast?” she quipped. 

She ignored his befuddled expression. “I did a terrible thing, one that I never even thought about before leaving the Shire.” 

Thorin frowned, “Yes, and I’m sorry for it.” 

She laid a hand on his shoulder, “Don’t be. That hobbit lass was softer, weaker. I like to think I’m wiser for the journey and the choices I’ve made on it. What I’ve done will always horrify me, and I think that’s a good thing. I think it would be more worrisome if it didn’t affect me. Gandalf says I bear the Gift of Protection, and isn’t that what I did? I protected you all.” 

He opened his mouth to speak, but she silenced him with a finger to his lips, “No,” she said firmly, “Let me finish. No matter where I go or what I do, this blood will be on my hands. But they were going to kill us, and stick your head on a pike for the Pale Orc to have. The lives I took were evil, cruel things. Yavanna forgive me, but I won’t be sorry for that.” 

Bella let her finger fall from his lips and slide to his shoulder, grasping it tightly. He raised a hand to her cheek and she leaned into his touch. 

“I wonder,” he whispered, “How something so little can be so fierce? If all hobbits were like you I think it would only take a dozen or so to take on the dragon.” 

She shrugged, “Well, you had your chance in Hobbiton, and only came away from the Shire with me and my brother. Just two hobbits, I’m afraid, will have to be enough for you.” 

“You are enough.” he replied fiercely. 

He was looking at her again like he had that night in the cave before the goblins came. She felt her cheeks flush, and she rather wondered if this is what a starving man looked like at a piece of chicken. She certainly wasn’t complaining. She leaned forward slightly. 

It was at that moment that Bilbo came running down the hill before them, sliding to a stop just before running into Bella and Thorin. 

“Oh, hello there.” he exclaimed. He couldn't help himself. He winked at Bella.

Bella took several steps back from Thorin, and it was then she saw all the Company was eyeing both her and Thorin with an undisguised interest. Indeed, some of them looked incredibly gleeful at the exchange. She glared at them, and they all looked away with a hint of fear in their eyes. 

Thorin saw how Bilbo’s face was tinged with fear, and not of his sister. “How close is the pack?” 

“Too close!” was the reply. Bilbo bounced back and forth on his feet as anxiety overtook him. “Only a few leagues away on the mountain ridge. But, I tell you, that’s not the worst of it.” 

Dwalin came up behind Bella and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Have the wargs picked up our scents?” he asked. 

Bilbo shook his head firmly. “Np, not yet. But they will. Until then, we have another problem.” 

“Did they see you?” Gandalf demanded. 

Bilbo turned an irritated look on the Wizard, who misread his face. “Oh, they saw you!”

The dwarves all sighed and chattered amongst themselves at this new development. 

“No,” Bilbo cried in exasperation, “That’s not it!” 

Gandalf let out a huff of relief, smiling at all the dwarves. “What did I tell you? Quiet as a mouse, excellent burglar material.” 

Bella shot the Wizard a look, which he of course ignored. The mood of the Company shifted, and they were all agreeing wholeheartedly with the Wizard about how yes, Bilbo was quiet as a mouse, the best burglar in the Company (besides Nori, of course)! Bella saw the look on Bilbo’s face and stomped her foot firmly. The Company grew silent as the ground beneath their feet shifted slightly.

“I am trying to tell you,” Bilbo shouted, pointing behind him to the treeline he had just ran out of, “There is something else out there!” 

Thorin, Balin, and Dwalin all exchanged glances with one another. Bella sighed deeply. 

_The last time this happened, we had to run. I hate running. When this is all over, I will never run again unless I am late for dinner._

“What form did this thing take?” Gandalf asked, his voice going low and his face becoming extremely serious, “Was it like a bear?” 

“Yes,” Bilbo replied in confusion, “Like a bear, but bigger. Much, much bigger. How did you know?” 

Bofur pushed himself to the front to stick a finger in Gandalf’s face, “You knew about this beast, and you lead us here?” 

“And where else were we to go, being hunted by Bolg as we are?” 

Gandalf turned his back on them, looking around and muttering quietly to himself. Bella sighed. 

“I say we double back, then.” Bofur continued. 

“If we do that,” Bella told him, “We’ll be run down by the orc pack in less time then it takes me to make my mother’s blueberry muffins.” 

Dwalin perked up, “Blueberry muffins?” 

Bella raised her eyebrow at him, “Mother couldn’t cook to save her life, but she made the best blueberry muffins. If we ever make it out of this alive, I’ll make us a couple dozen for breakfast.” 

Gandalf pushed his way through to the middle of the circle the Company had unknowingly formed (Bella was slightly annoyed to realize that somehow both herself and Bilbo had been gently nudged to the middle of said circle without them noticing) and interrupted any further conversation, “There is a house, it’s not very far from here. There, we might take refuge.” 

Thorin gave the Wizard a look. “Who’s house? Friend or foe?” He paused, “Or do you not know?” 

“Did you put a mark on their door as well?” Bella quipped. Bilbo snickered under his breath. 

Gandalf of course ignored her, “Both, and yet neither. He will either help us, or he will kill us.” 

Bella sighed, “We’re going to have to run again.” she told Bilbo, who grimaced. 

“What choice do we have?” Thorin asked. 

A growl (or a howl, they weren’t really sure) sounded in the distance, loud enough to shake the birds from the trees next to them even though Bilbo knew the creature was at least several miles away from their current location. They all jumped, glancing behind them as if it might leap out of the trees at any moment (and the truth was, it could’ve). 

Gandalf’s face grew very dark at the sound. “None.” 

And then they were off, bounding down the path like a pack of rabbits with a fox on their tale (and indeed, the ones who could spare the strength to think about it for a moment knew that that they were being hunted) sprinting and jumping over fallen trees and rocks until the ground finally leveled out and they burst out of the trees into a field. The obstacles in their path allowed Bella and her short legs to keep pace with the others. 

The sound of the creature behind them continued to grow louder and louder as the minutes passed. 

They paused for just a moment to catch their breath. 

“No,” Gandalf shouted, “This way, quickly! Don’t stop! Run!” 

Bella darted around the frozen dwarf in front of her, yanking on his arm as she rushed past. “Bombur, come on!” she screamed. When his footfalls sounded behind her she gave a sigh of relief. 

As they ran she could see a dark shape on the horizon, and it grew larger as they grew closer. When it’s shape became evident, she realized that it was a very large house surrounded by a wall of stone. 

“There’s the house!” Gandalf said, “Come on!” 

A red-headed blurry blob passed by her, and she was shocked when she saw Bombur running past, overtaking all the others one by one as they ran. They couldn’t be more than a mile from the door now, and in his desperation he let out one last burst of speed to come to the head of the line, even surpassing Gandalf. This of course meant that he reached the door first. 

“Come on,” Gandalf cried to the other dwarves behind him, “Hurry, get inside!”

He stopped at the opening in the stone wall that Bombur had just ran through and began gesturing wildly with his staff. “Hurry. Hurry!”

One by one they darted through, and they had to pause to avoid stepping on Bombur. In his great haste, the son of Ur had not realized that the door was latched shut, and had bounced off of it in the same manner as a tennis ball does when it hits a racket. 

The dwarves all pressed themselves to the door, trying to push it open. In their fear, none of them thought to grab the latch. 

Behind her, Bella heard something burst out of the trees, and her renewed fear gave her a small burst of strength. She saw the latch, and bounced off of Bombur’s stomach in order to reach it. They all fell through. 

“Get it!” Gandalf was coming up behind them. The bear was nearly to the wall, “Get it you fools!”

They all made it through and began to push the door shut, but they were too late it seemed. The creature already had his snout through and was pushing, pushing on the door with all its might. IT snapped at the few dwarves who got close to it. They were never going to get it shut in time, not by themselves at least. 

Bella reached down inside herself, and hoped that she wouldn’t break the door if she happened to use too much. 

“Duck!” she screamed, and miraculously the dwarves listened. 

She pulled on the air surrounding them and directed it in a straight line to where she wanted it to go. This final push was enough. The wood groaned from the force of the blow, but it held, and the door slammed shut. Another directed gust, and the latch fell into place. Everyone let out a collective sigh of relief. 

“What is that thing?” Ori wondered aloud. 

“That is our host.”


	27. of Counting and Tall Tales

Bilbo whirled on Gandalf, “Let me guess, he didn’t know we were dropping in for a visit?” 

The Wizard shrugged unconcernedly. “It doesn’t matter if he knew we were coming or not, we are here, and he is here, and we will see what he does.”

The dwarves all gathered round when they heard the wizard talking like this to Bilbo. 

"How is that the person you said would help or kill us?" they asked. "Couldn't you find someone more easy tempered? Hadn't you better explain it all a bit clearer?"and so on. 

"Yes it certainly is! No I could not! And I was explaining very carefully," (Bilbo may or may not have scoffed at this response, and indeed his sister too) answered the Wizard crossly. "If you must know more, his name is Beorn. He is very strong, and he is a skinchanger." 

"What! a furrier, a man that calls rabbits conies, when he doesn't turn their skins into squirrels?" asked Bilbo. 

"Good gracious heavens, no, no, NO, NO!" said Gandalf. "Don't be a fool Mr. Baggins if you can help it; and in the name of all wonder don't mention the word furrier again as long as you are within a hundred miles of his house, nor, rug, cape, tippet, muff, nor any other such unfortunate word! He is a skinchanger. He changes his skin; sometimes he is a huge black bear, sometimes he is a great strong blackhaired man with huge arms and a great beard. I cannot tell you much more, though that ought to be enough. Some say that he is a bear descended from the great and ancient bears of the mountains that lived there before the giants came. Others say that he is a man descended from the first men who lived before Smaug or the other dragons came into this part of the world, and before the goblins came into the hills out of the North. I cannot say, though I fancy the last is the true tale. He is not the sort of person to ask questions of.” 

Bilbo couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of wonder on the faces of the dwarves, particularly that of Oin. His poor ear trumpet had not survived the goblin cave, but he was trying to use it nonetheless. 

“When he is a man,” Gandalf continued, “But it should also be mentioned that he is not overfond of dwarves.” 

“Of course he’s not.” Bilbo huffed, “Because it’s such a great task for you to take us somewhere that actually likes dwarves.” 

Gandalf glared at him, and Bilbo glared back. 

Ori was peering through a crack in the door slats. “He’s leaving!” he exclaimed. 

Dori yanked him back, “Come away from there!” he demanded, “It’s not natural, none of it. It’s obvious he’s under some dark spell!”

“And just what is natural to you, Master Dori?” Bilbo wanted to know, “Or need I remind you that it was my spells that healed your wounds and those of Bella’s that kept you safe from the goblins and allowed you to escape the caves.” he clapped a protective arm around his sister’s shoulders. 

“Don’t be a fool,” Gandalf added, speaking over Dori’s spluttering, “"At any rate he is under no enchantment but his own. He lives in this oakwood and in this great wooden house; and as a man he keeps cattle and horses which are nearly is marvellous as himself. They work for him and talk to him. He does not eat them; neither does he hunt or eat wild animals. He keeps hives and hives of great fierce bees, and lives most on cream and honey. As a bear he ranges far and wide. I once saw him sitting all alone on the top of the Carrock at night watching the moon sinking towards the Misty Mountains, and I heard him growl in the tongue of bears; 'The day will come when they will perish and I shall go back!' That is why I believe he once came from the mountains himself."

Looking out of a nearby window, Bilbo’s eyes widened at the sight of the flowers and the bee hives. “Bell,” he cried, “Look!”

Joining him, the two of them noticed that great patches of flowers had begun to spring up, all the same kinds growing together as if they had been planted. Especially there was clover, waving patches of cockscomb clover, and purple clover, and wide stretches of short white sweet honey-smelling clover. There was a buzzing and a whirring and a droning in the air. Bees were busy everywhere. And such bees! Bilbo had never seen anything like them.

"If one was to sting me," he said to his sister, "I should swell up as big again as I am!"

Bella laughed at him, but agreed. They were bigger than hornets. The drones were bigger than your thumb, a good deal, and the bands of yellow on their deep black bodies shone like fiery gold.

And why, the horses! There were horses and cows in the pasture beyond the hives, and Bilbo and Bella could see them because the wall on this side of the house was only half as high as the wall in the front. The animals were very easily twice the size of those that could be found in the villages of men, and for a moment Bilbo felt every inch his tweenage years and felt very very small. 

“There’s nothing for it,” Gandalf said, “Find a spot, bunk down. He’ll return in the morning and we’ll be able to reason with him, I hope. Until then, sleep.” 

And that’s precisely what they did. They all made beds out of the straw in the house (which truthfully resembled a large barn) and bedded down for the night (even though it was only midmorning, they were all exhausted and didn’t care), divided into their family groups much like whenever they made camp on the road. Gandalf assured Thorin there was no need for a watch here, but he insisted. Dwalin took the first watch, planting himself on the floor next to where the pair of hobbits had already fallen asleep. 

Bilbo woke up sometime in the middle of the night, and hearing a noise outside the house he moved to the window to look. Off in the distance he could see the bear advancing swiftly on the house again. He turned to shout the alarm, but was stopped by Gandalf with a hand over his mouth. The Wizard shook his head, and gestured for the hobbit to look again. Turning around, Bilbo watched in amazement as the bear fell over as if dead. A few moments later, a naked man stood where the creature had been. He stood still, staring at the house, and did not make to move towards it. After observing for several minutes Bilbo went back to Bella, curling himself around her protectively and falling back asleep.

When he awoke again, it was because of the combination of the sound of chopping wood and a baby bumble bee landing on his nose. 

He jerked up, waking Bella next to him. She sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. When she finished, she eyed the empty room in front of them. 

“Where’s everyone gone?” she asked. 

Bilbo shrugged, “Don’t know, but I bet we’ll find them in the kitchen.”

Bella agreed. They got up and made their way past the stalls of animals they hadn’t noticed the day before (for it was most certainly the next day) and into the kitchen area where all the dwarves were with Gandalf peeking out the side door. 

“I say we should leg it,” Nori said, looking around at the others, “You know, slip out the back way.” He wrapped a protective arm around Ori.

Dwalin yanked him around by the shoulders and got very much up into his face. “I’m not running from anyone, beast or no!” 

The dwarves began to argue amongst themselves, and Bilbo and Bella exchanged glances. 

“There’s no point in arguing,” Gandalf silenced them all, “We cannot pass through the Wilderlands without the help of Beorn,” he looked through the window, “We would be hunted down before we even got to the forest.” 

Everyone exchanged somber looks. Bilbo and Bella finally pushed between Thorin and Kili to look beyond the door. They could see the shadow of who they could only assume to be Beorn cast across the yard. 

“Ah, there you are,” Gandalf said, “Now, this will require some delicate handling.” 

Bilbo couldn’t help it, he rolled his eyes. Then he rolled his eyes some more at the look the Dwarf King was giving his sister. 

“We must tread very carefully,” Gandalf continued, “The last person to startle the Great Bear, well, he tore him to shreds before he realized he was not an enemy.” 

Bilbo and Bella exchanged horrified looks. Their hobbit selves were wondering how anyone could behave so meanly with a guest. The chopping continued outside. 

“I will go first, and the Baggins will accompany me. Ah, best not to take the both of you.” he considered very carefully for a moment, “Bilbo, you come with me.” 

Bilbo looked to Bella, who shrugged. Well, he would remember that the next time she asked him for something. Then he looked to Thorin, who only motioned him forward with a nod of his head. None of the others offered him any help, and so he stepped forward. “Is this really a good idea?” he asked nervously. 

“Well, I say it is,” Gandalf replied, “And so it is. Now, the rest of you just wait here. And, don’t come out, not until I give the signal!” 

“Got it!” cried Bofur, climbing up to the window to see if the hobbit lad would be offered as a snack, “wait for the signal!”

“Now,” the Wizard added, “No sudden movements. No loud noises! And for heaven's sake, don’t overcrowd him! Only come out in pairs, five minutes apart I think should do it. Only in pairs, I say!”

He stepped through the door with Bilbo beside him, only to turn back, “No, actually Bombur,” the dwarf in question crunched a carrot between his teeth, “Ummm, you count as two. So, you should come out alone.” 

Bombur nodded, shrugged, and stuffed another carrot in his mouth. 

Gandalf thrust his finger into the air, “Remember, wait for the signal!” 

They all agreed to wait for his signal. He stepped back through the door with his arm around Bilbo’s shoulders, and this time he did not return. 

“Hold on,” said Bella, “What signal would that be?” 

They all looked at each other and shook their heads. 

_Confusticate bothersome Wizards._

Inside on the southward side of the great wall were rows and rows of hives with bell-shaped tops made of straw. The noise of the giant bees flying to and fro and crawling in and out filled all the air. Some horses, very sleek and well groomed, trotted up across the grass and looked at them intently with very intelligent faces; then off they galloped to the buildings.

"They have gone to tell him we are awake, I suspect. He already knows we are here, or he would have come in last night," said Gandalf, clearing his throat. 

“Why,” Bilbo said in wonder, “You’re nervous!”

“Nervous? I’m a Wizard. We don’t get nervous.” 

Bilbo watched with silent glee as Gandalf fidgeted with his staff and hair, and nearly laughed at the expression on the Wizard’s face once he realized that he had left his hat in the house. 

Soon they reached a courtyard, three walls of which were formed by the wooden house and its two long wings. In the middle there was lying a great oak trunk with many lopped branches beside it. Standing near was a huge man with a thick black beard and' hair, and great bare arms and legs with knotted muscles. He was clothed in a tunic of wool down to his knees, and was leaning on a large axe. The horses were standing by him with their noses at his shoulder. 

"Ugh! here they are!" he said to the horses. "They don't look dangerous. You can be off!" He laughed a great rolling laugh, put down his axe and came forward. "Who are you and what do you want?" he asked gruffly, standing in front of them and towering tall above Gandalf. As for Bilbo he could easily have trotted through his legs without ducking his head to miss the fringe of the man's brown tunic. 

"I am Gandalf," said the Wizard, giving a slight bow, “Gandalf the Grey.”

"Never heard of him," growled the man, "And what's this little fellow?" he said, stooping down to frown at the hobbit with his bushy eyebrows, “Almost mistook him for a bunny, he’s so small.” His tone grew sharp, and his grip on his axe grew tighter. “He’s not a dwarf, is he?” 

Bilbo coughed indignantly. He was very tall, for a hobbit, thank you very much. And he was most certainly not a dwarf. 

"That is Mr. Baggins, a hobbit from the Shire, of good family and unimpeachable reputation," said Gandalf. 

Bilbo bowed, more embarrassed than indignant now. He had no hat to take off, and was painfully conscious of his many missing buttons, and the very large size difference. It wouldn’t take much for this Beorn fellow to squish him if he so chose. 

"I am a Wizard," continued Gandalf. "I have heard of you, if you have not heard of me; but perhaps you have heard of my good brother Radagast who lives near the Southern borders of Mirkwood?" 

"Yes; not a bad fellow as Wizards go, I believe. I used to see him now and again," said Beorn. "Well, now I know who you are, or who you say you are. What do you want?"

"Well, first to thank you for your generous hospitality. You may have noticed that we took refuge in your lodgings here. Second, To tell you the truth, we have lost our luggage and nearly lost our way, and are rather in need of help, or at least advice. I may say we have had rather a bad time with goblins in the mountains." 

"Goblins?" said the big man less gruffly. "O ho, so you've been having trouble with them have you? What did you go near them for? Stupid thing to do." 

"We did not mean to. They surprised us at night in a pass which we had to cross, we were coming out of the Lands over West into these countries, it is a long tale." 

"Then you had better tell me some of it, if it won't take all day," said the man. He gestured behind him, and they followed him for a brief moment to a set of benches laying just behind him. Bilbo turned and smiled at the group he saw clustered in the window. They sat on these wooden benches while Gandalf began his tale, and Bilbo swung his dangling legs and looked at the flowers in the garden, wondering what their names could be, as he had never seen half of them before. 

"I was coming over the mountains with a friend or two…" said the Wizard. 

"Or two? I can only see one, and a little one at that," said Beorn.

"Well to tell you the truth, I did not like to bother you with a lot of us, until I found out if you were busy. I will give a call, if I may." 

"Go on, call away!" So Gandalf gave a long shrill whistle, (“Oi,” Bilbo heard Bofur say, “That’s the signal!”) and presently Dwalin and Balin came round the house by the garden path and stood bowing low before them. 

"One or three you meant, I see!" said Beorn. "But these aren't hobbits, they are dwarves!" His voice grew dark, “I don’t much like dwarves.” 

"Balin, son of Fundin, at your service!”

“Dwalin, at your service!” 

"I don't need your service, thank you," said Beorn, "but I expect you need mine. I am not over fond of dwarves; but if it is true that you are enemies of goblins and are not up to any mischief in my lands….what are you up to, by the way?" 

"They are on their way to visit the land of their fathers, away east beyond Mirkwood," put in Gandalf smoothly, "and it is entirely an accident that we are in your lands at all. We were crossing by the High Pass that should have brought us to the road that lies to the south of your country, when we were attacked by the evil goblins, as I was about to tell you." 

"Go on telling, then!" said Beorn, who was never very polite. 

"There was a terrible storm; the stonegiants were out hurling rocks, and at the head of the pass they took refuge in a cave, the hobbit and several of our companions…" 

"Do you call two several?" 

"Well, no. As a matter of fact there were more than two." 

"Where are they? Killed, eaten, gone home?

"Well, no. They don't seem all to have come when I whistled. Shy, I expect. You see, we are very much afraid that we are rather a lot for you to entertain." 

"Go on, whistle again! I am in for a party, it seems, and one or two more won't make much difference," growled Beorn. 

_A party_ , Bilbo couldn’t help but think, _If only he knew we brought a throng._

Gandalf whistled again; but Oin and Gloin were there almost before he had stopped, for, if you remember, Gandalf had told them to come in pairs every five minutes. “And here are some more of our happy troop!”

"Hullo!" said Beorn. "You came pretty quick, where were you hiding? Come on my jackintheboxes!" 

"Gloin, at your service,” he said with a bow. Oin didn’t move until his brother nudged him. 

“Oin at . . ." he began; but Beorn interrupted him. "Thank you! When I want your help I will ask for it. Sit down, and let's get on with this tale, or it will be suppertime before it is ended." 

"As soon as they were asleep," went on Gandalf, "a crack at the back of the cave opened; goblins came out and grabbed the hobbit and the dwarves and our troop of ponies" 

"Troop of ponies? What were you, a travelling circus? Or were you carrying lots of goods? Or do you always call six a troop?" 

"O no! As a matter of fact there were more than six ponies, for there were more than six of usand well, here are two more!" 

Just at that moment Ori and Dori appeared (for Bofur was timing the best he could and directing them all out when he thought about five minutes had passed) and bowed. The big man was frowning at first, but they did their very best to be frightfully polite, and kept on nodding and bending and bowing and waving their hoods before their knees (in proper dwarf fashion), till he stopped frowning and burst into a chuckling laugh; they looked so comical. Even if they were dwarves.

"Troop, was right," he said. "A fine comic one. Come my merry men, and what are your names? I don't want your service just now, only your names; and then sit down and stop wagging!" 

"Ori and Dori," they said, not daring to be offended, and sat flop on the ground looking rather surprised. 

"Now go on again!" said Beorn to the Wizard. 

"Where was 1? O yes I was not grabbed. I killed a goblin or two with a flash..." 

"Good!" growled Beorn. "It is some good being a wizard, then." 

"...and slipped inside the crack before it closed. I followed down into the main hall, which was crowded with goblins. The Great Goblin was there with thirty or forty armed guards. I thought to myself 'what can a dozen do against so many?' " 

"A dozen! That's the first time I've heard eight called a dozen. Or have you still got some more jacks that haven't yet come out of their boxes?"

"Well, yes, there seem to be a couple more here now, Fili and Kili, I believe," said Gandalf, as these two now appeared and stood smiling and bowing. 

"That's enough!" said Beorn. "Sit down and be quiet! Now go on, Gandalf!" 

So Gandalf went on with the tale, until he came to the fight in the dark, the discovery of the lower gate, and their horror when they found that the Mr. Baggins had been mislaid. 

"We counted ourselves and found that there was no male hobbit. There were only fourteen of us left!" 

"Fourteen! That's the first time I've heard one from ten leave fifteen. You mean nine, or else you haven't told me yet all the names of your party." 

"Well, of course you haven't seen Bifur and Bofur yet. And, bless me! I quite forgot about Bella, here they are. I hope you will forgive them for bothering you." 

They had been going out in family pairs, and it had been decided to let Bella go out with the rest of the 'B' dwarves, excluding Bombur of course. 

Bella trotted over to Bilbo and took his hand in hers. He squeezed it reassuringly. 

"O let 'em all come! Hurry up! Come along, you three, and sit down! But look here, Gandalf, even now we have only got yourself and ten dwarves, and the non-male hobbit, and the hobbit that was lost. That only makes thirteen and not fifteen, unless wizards count differently to other people. But now please get on with the tale." 

Beorn did not show it more than he could help, but really he had begun to get very interested. You see, in the old days he had known the very part of the mountains that Gandalf was describing. He nodded and he growled, when he heard of the hobbit's reappearance and of their scramble down and of the wargs in the woods. When Gandalf came to their climbing into trees with the wargs all underneath, he got up and strode about and muttered: "I wish I had been there! I would have given them more than fireworks!" 

"Well," said Gandalf (very glad to see that his tale was making a good impression), "I did the best I could. There we were with the wargs going mad underneath us and the forest beginning to blaze in places, when the goblins came down from the hills and discovered us. They yelled with delight and sang songs making fun of us. Sixteen birds in five fir trees…" 

"Good heavens!" growled Beorn. "Don't pretend that goblins can't count. They can. Fourteen isn't sixteen and they know it." 

"And so do 1. There were Nori and Thorin as well. I haven't ventured to introduce them before, but here they are." Here came Nori and Thorin. They had been paired simply for lack of being with anyone else.

"And me!" gasped Bombur pulling up behind. He was fat, and also angry at being left till last. He refused to wait five minutes, and followed immediately after the other two. 

"Well, now there are sixteen of you; and since goblins can count, I suppose that is all that there were up the trees. Now perhaps we can finish this story without any more interruptions." 

Bilbo saw then how clever Gandalf had been. The interruptions had really made Beorn more interested in the story, and the story had kept him from sending the dwarves off at once like suspicious beggars. He never invited people into his house, if he could help it. He had very few friends and they lived a good way away; and he never invited more than a couple of these to his house at a time. 

Now he had got sixteen strangers sitting in his yard! By the time the wizard had finished his tale and had told of the eagles' rescue and of how they had all been brought to the Carrock, the sun had fallen behind the peaks of the Misty Mountains and the shadows were long in Beorn's garden. 

"A very good tale!" said he. "The best I have heard for a long while. If all beggars could tell such a good one, they might find me kinder. You may be making it all up, of course, but you deserve a supper for the story all the same. Let's have something to eat!" 

"Yes, please!" they all said together. "Thank you very much!"


	28. Of Nighttime Songs

Inside the hall it was now quite dark, the windows being shut and the fire having nearly gone out. Beorn clapped his hands, and in trotted four beautiful white ponies and several large longbodied grey dogs. Beorn said something to them in a queer language like animal noises turned into talk. They went out again and soon came back carrying torches in their mouths, which they lit at the fire and stuck in low brackets on the pillars of the hall about the central hearth. The dogs could stand on their hindlegs when they wished, and carry things with their forefeet. Quickly they got out boards and trestles from the side walls and set them up near the fireplace. Beorn made a grumble of annoyance when he saw how low the embers burned, but with a word and a wave of her hand Bella soon had it roaring up again. 

Then baabaabaa! was heard, and in came some snowwhite sheep led by a large coalblack ram. One bore a white cloth embroidered at the edges with figures of animals; others bore on their broad backs trays with bowls and platters and knives and wooden spoons, which the dogs took and quickly laid on the trestle tables. These were very low, low enough even for Bella and Bilbo to sit at comfortably. Beside them a pony pushed two low seated benches with wide rush bottoms and little short thick legs for Gandalf and Thorin, while at the far end he put Beorn's big black chair of the same sort (in which he sat with his great legs stuck far out under the table). 

These were all the chairs he had in his hall, and he probably had them low like the tables for the convenience of the wonderful animals that waited on him. What did the rest sit on? They were not forgotten. 

The other ponies came in rolling round drumshaped sections of logs, smoothed and polished, and low enough even for Bilbo; so soon they were all seated at Beorn's table, and the hall had not seen such a gathering for many a year. There they had a supper, or a dinner, such as they had not had since they left the Last Homely House in Rivendell. The light of the torches and the fire flickered about them, and on the table were two tall red beeswax candles. 

“So, your name is Thorin.” it wasn’t a question, not when the words rolled out with a sharp edge to them. 

“Yes,” The dwarf replied. 

“I assume that is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror?” 

“Yes.” 

“The one that I hear they call Oakenshield?” 

“Yes.” Thorin glowered at the man.   
“Tell me, Thorin son of Thrain, why is Bolg, the son of Azog the Defiler hunting you?” 

Thorin set his drink on the table heavily. “You know of Bolg? How?” 

Bella leaned forward in her eagerness to pay attention to the conversation in front of her. 

“My people were the first to live in those mountains, before the Defiler and his horde of orcs came down from the North. They killed much of my family, but not all. Those that were left, he enslaved.” 

For the first time Bella noticed the shackles that were bound to the wrists of Beorn. They still had chains dangling from them, and all around them the skin was heavily scarred. She couldn’t tell if the scarring was from trying to escape, or trying to cut off the cuffs. 

“We were not kept for work, you understand,” Beorn continued, “But for sport. Caging skinchangers, torturing them. This all seemed to amuse him.” 

“There are others?” Bella asked. 

“Like you, she means,” Bilbo added, “Others like you.” 

“Once there were many.” 

Bella’s curiosity got the better of her. “And now?”

“Now there is only one.”

Tears welled up in her eyes. She was gripping the table so hard she was sure that it would leave splinters. She looked up suddenly, eyes flashing. She stepped up on the top of the table and reached for Beorn’s arm. The skinchanger took a quick step back, but for all his size he had no hope of escaping the determined hobbit. She grasped his wrist in her hands, holding him tightly but gently. 

“Datgloi,” she commanded, feeling her eyes light up with the power that rushed through her, “Rhyddhau!”

The cuffs of the shackles snapped in two cleanly, falling at his feet. In her anger she could not stop herself. 

“Llosgi!” She cried, pointing to the metal, “Toddi!”   
Everyone looked on in astonishment as the metal turned red hot and melted down through the cracks in the floorboards without even leaving a scorch mark on the wood. 

She turned to Beorn, who was staring at her in shock. Bella blinked away the remainder of her tears. 

Beorn looked down at his wrists. “Thank you little bunny.” he said with reverence. He turned back to the dwarves, “You need to reach the mountain? By the last day of autumn?” 

“Before Durin’s Day falls,” Gandalf replied, unphased by what had just happened, “Yes.” 

“You have a little time,” Beorn told them all, “But you are swiftly running out of it. You may only say here a week, two at the most if you intend to reach the mountain in time.

“Indeed,” Gandalf said, “Which is why we must go through Mirkwood.” 

Beorn say back heavily in his chair, “A darkness lies upon that forest,” he said dangerously, “Foul things creep beneath those trees. There is an alliance between the orcs that can be found in Moria and the Necromancer in Dol Guldur. I would not venture there, except in great need.” 

“We will take the elven road,” the Wizard proclaimed, “Their path is still safe.” 

Reaching next to her without even a sideways glance, Bella yanked the tankard from FIli’s lips. “I think you’ve had enough,” she whispered to the half-drunk dwarf. She turned to her other side where she noticed Bilbo drinking from the mug still in her hands. He was practically all drunk from the looks of it. She snatched her hand holding the mug back, and pinched his cheeks tightly when he grumbled in protest. 

“Safe,” Beorn objected, “The Wood Elves of Mirkwood are nothing like their kin to the West. They are a great deal less wise, and so a great deal more dangerous. But, it matters not.” 

“What do you mean?” Thorin demanded. 

“These lands are crawling with orcs. Their numbers are growing, and you are on foot. You will never reach the forest alive.” 

Thorin stared at Beorn with unconcealed anger in his eyes. The big man stood suddenly, towering over all of them at the table, including Gandalf. 

“I don’t like dwarves,” Beorn growled, “They are greedy, and blind. Blind to the lives of those they deem lesser than their own.” He stepped around and laid a hand on both Bella and Bilbo’s shoulders. They tried not to jump or lean down from the heaviness of his palms. “But orcs I hate more. I will go tonight and find out if your tale about the fire-battle on the mountain is the truth. I will speak to the Lord of the Eagles about your flight. If you have lied to me, I will kill you. But if you have spoken true, I will help you. What do you need?” 

“We can discuss that in the morning,” Bella said firmly, “We’ve been on the run for far too long. Let us enjoy this respite, if even just for tonight.” 

To her great delight and surprise, both Beorn and Thorin agreed. 

All the time they ate, Beorn in his deep rolling voice told tales of the wild lands on this side of the mountains, and especially of the dark and dangerous wood, that lay outstretched far to North and South a day's ride before them, barring their way to the East, the terrible forest of Mirkwood. Bella listened with eager ears. The dwarves listened and shook their beards, for they knew that they must soon venture into that forest and that after the mountains it was the worst of the perils they had to pass before they came to the dragon's stronghold. And Bilbo? Well, he was far too busy stuffing himself full to really pay attention to anything that was said. 

When dinner was over the dwarves began to tell tales of their own, but Beorn seemed to be growing drowsy and paid little heed to them. They spoke most of gold and silver and jewels and the making of things by smithcraft, and Beorn did not appear to care for such things: there were no things of gold or silver in his hall, and few save the knives were made of metal at all. They sat long at the table with their wooden drinking bowls filled with mead. 

The dark night came on outside. The fires in the middle of the hall were built with fresh logs and the torches were put out, and still they sat in the light of the dancing flames with the pillars of the house standing tall behind them, arid dark at the top like trees of the forest. Whether it was magic or not (and truthfully she could feel the power of this place and all the magic it held in her very bones), it seemed to Bella that she heard a sound like wind in the branches stirring in the rafters, and the hoot of owls. Everyone moved from their seats at the table to the floor in front of the fire, which thanks to hobbit Magic was still burning bright. Bilbo curled himself into Bella, laying his head on her lap. She ran her fingers through his hair and stroked it gently, over and over. Soon she began to nod with sleep and the voices seemed to grow far away, until she woke with a start.

The great door had creaked and slammed. Beorn was gone. The dwarves were sitting cross-legged on the floor round the fire, and presently they began to sing. Some of the verses were like this, but there were many more, and their singing went on for a long while: 

_The wind was on the withered heath,  
but in the forest stirred no leaf:   
there shadows lay by night and day,   
and dark things silent crept beneath.   
The wind came down from mountains cold,   
and like a tide it roared and rolled;   
the branches groaned,   
the forest moaned,   
and leaves were laid upon the mould.   
The wind went on from West to East;   
all movement in the forest ceased,   
but shrill and harsh across the marsh,  
its whistling voices were released.   
The grasses hissed,   
their tassels bent,   
the reeds were rattling on it went   
o' er shaken pool   
under heavens cool   
where racing clouds were torn and rent.   
It passed the lonely Mountain bare   
and swept above the dragon's lair:   
there black and dark   
lay boulders stark   
and flying smoke was in the air.   
It left the world   
and took its flight   
over the wide seas of the night.   
The moon set sail upon the gale,   
and stars were fanned to leaping light. _

Bilbo rubbed his eyes sleepily. 

“Rest, my lamb,” Bella told him, still stroking. 

“No,” he whined quietly, “Sing me the Goodbye song.” 

“Not tonight Bilbo.” 

“Why not?” 

She looked up at Thorin. “We haven’t heard you sing since that time in Rivendell all those days ago.” 

For truly it was only roughly two (or was it three, she wasn’t entirely sure) weeks since they had left the safety and comfort of the Last Homely House. She was an entirely different hobbit lass then the one that had stayed there. 

“Please,” pled Ori, “I want to hear more hobbit music.” 

Bella chuckled. “Alright,” she agreed, looking down at Bilbo sternly, “But this is the only song you’ll get out of me this night!”

He nodded tirely, leaning back and closing his eyes. 

Bella closed her eyes and breathed in, letting the words come out quiet and clear: 

_I saw the light fade from the sky  
On the wind I heard a sigh.   
As the snowflakes cover  
My fallen brothers  
I will say this last goodbye._

_Night is now falling  
So ends this day.   
The road is now calling  
And I, must away.   
Over hill  
And under tree  
Through lands where never light has shown  
By silver streams  
That run down  
To the sea. _

_Under cloud,  
Beneath the stars,   
Over snow, and winter’s morn  
I turn at last,  
To paths,  
That lead home. _

_And though where the road then takes me,  
I cannot tell.   
We came all this way  
But now comes the day  
To bid you farewell. _

Bella paused, glancing down at her lap. Bilbo was fast asleep. She pressed a kiss to his forehead and shifted, realizing that her leg had also fallen asleep. It was not alone. Glancing around, nearly all of the dwarves had nodded off to her song. The only ones left awake were Dwalin, Nori, and Thorin.

Suddenly up stood Gandalf. "It is time for us to sleep," be said, "for us, but not I think for Beorn. In this hall we can rest sound and safe, but I warn you all not to forget what Beorn said before he left us: you must not stray outside until the sun is up, on your peril."

Bella didn’t remember him saying that, but she supposed he must have while she wasn’t paying attention. 

She turned her head and found that beds had already been laid at the side of the hall, on a sort of raised platform between the pillars and the outer wall. For her and Bilbo there was a little mattress of straw and woollen blankets. 

“Dwalin,” she whispered, gesturing to her lap. 

The warrior understood her, and gently lifted her brother into his arms, carrying him to the little mattress and setting him down on it. Bella pulled the blankets around him. He snuggled into them very gladly, summertime though it was. 

A hand clasped his shoulder as she finished tucking Bilbo in. She jumped, and turned to see Thorin standing there with a dark gaze in his eyes. 

“Miss Baggins,” he said lowly, “I think we need to talk.” 

She followed him out of the house.


	29. Of Much Eating and Slight Insults

It was full morning when Bilbo awoke. Rolling over, he smiled when he noticed Bella asleep next to him. That smile quickly turned to a frown once he realized there were dried tear tracks streaking down her cheeks. He reached over to shake her awake, but thought better of it. He did not want to face the wrath of his sister if he woke her up to early. Indeed, he rather thought he’d face the wargs again before waking up Belladonna Baggins the Second before she was good and ready. 

“Oooof!”

One of the dwarves had fallen over him in the shadows where he lay, and had rolled down with a bump from the platform on to the floor. It was Bofur, and he was grumbling about it, when Bilbo looked down at him. 

"Get up lazybones," he said, "or there will be no breakfast left for you." 

Up jumped Bilbo. "Breakfast!" he cried. "Where is breakfast?"

"Mostly inside us," answered Bombur who was moving around the hall; "but what is left is out on the veranda. We have been about looking for Beorn ever since the sun got up; but there is no sign of him anywhere, though we found breakfast laid as soon as we went out." 

"Where is Gandalf?" asked Bilbo.

"O! out and about somewhere," Bofur told him. 

Leaning down, he tucked the blankets securely around Bella and pressed a kiss into her hair, silently promising to set aside some vittles for her. Then he moved off as quickly as he could, darting down the hall in search of the aforementioned food. He looked around for Gandalf, unsurprised to see he was nowhere to be found. He made a mental note to look again later. 

Food first of course. 

Thankfully, Bella was drawn to wake by the scent of the biscuits that were miraculously still on the table. She bounded down to the veranda. 

“You sorry lot better have left me some!” she cried. 

Bilbo laughed at the expressions on the faces of the dwarves. “Never get between a hobbit and her food,” he told them, “Ho! Easy there, Bell, I’m sure there will be plenty at second breakfast. No need to stuff yourself now!”

Bella quickly chewed and swallowed the biscuit in her mouth and pulled the tray closer to her. 

“I don’t care about second breakfast right now, I care about this breakfast. So hush, you, and let me eat. Pass the jam?” 

Still laughing, Bilbo slid the jar her way. 

“Oooo. Strawberry.” 

The dwarves were still staring at the two of them, gobsmacked. 

“Second breakfast?” Nori squeaked. 

“Well, yes.” Bilbo replied in confusion. 

“What’s that?” 

Bilbo glanced at the star-haired dwarf. “The meal after first breakfast?” 

“First breakfast!” Balin exclaimed, “Why, I’ve never heard such a thing!”

“Never heard of such a thing?” Bella asked, “How many times do you eat a day?” 

“Two,” Kili said honestly, “Maybe three if we are lucky. There’s not a lot to go around, and we always make sure the elder folk eat first.” 

“Only three meals!” Bilbo cried, “No wonder you cleared out our pantry.” 

“Well,” Nori said crossly (for he was largely suspecting that he was not going to like the answer to the question that he was about to ask), “Just how many meals do you eat in a day?”

Bilbo thought for a minute before counting out loud, “Well, there’s first breakfast, second breakfast, tea, luncheon, afternoon tea, dinner, supper (though you may hear some hobbits say supper and dinner instead), and of course late night snack. So, seven, sometimes eight.” 

There were those gobsmacked expressions again. He shrugged. “Hobbits like comfort, and there is no greater comfort than our cooking.” 

“Meanwhile, while you stuff yourselves with seven meals a day, we damn near starve.” 

“Now look here,” Bella cut Nori off before he could say anything more, “It’s through no fault of ours that you don’t have food. If we would have known, some of the kinder hobbits would have no doubt sent some to the Blue Mountains, arranged marriage or no arranged marriage. We definitely had plenty just on our lands to feed an entire mountain for a least a month. But we didn’t know, and as I said, that’s no fault of ours. Or yours for that matter.” 

Nori hung his head. Dwalin clasped him on the shoulder and whispered something into his ear. He glared at the guardsmen before stomping off. 

“Oh dear,” Bella sighed, pushing back her plate, “I seem to have made a mess of things.” 

She made to follow Nori, but Dwalin stopped her, “No, lass, let him figure himself out first.”

“What did she say?” Bilbo wondered. 

“Nori’s mother died of starvation, from giving all her food shares to her sons.” 

“Oh.” Bilbo and Bella both suddenly felt a little to full, somewhat greedy, and very, very lucky. 

There was silence for several minutes. 

“Well,” Bilbo said, “I’ll go look for Gandalf.” 

He scarpered off away from the awkwardness, Bella following close behind. He kept himself from asking why she had been crying. If she wanted him to know, she would tell him then, and not before, he reasoned. No sense in pushing buttons that don’t need to be pushed if it’s only going to start something that didn’t need to be started. 

After all, they were half Took, and Tookish Tempers were legendary. 

So looking for Gandalf was a good excuse to keep him occupied. 

But he saw no sign of the wizard all that day until the evening. He kept looking around however, and Bella soon went her own way to amuse herself in the garden. Just before sunset he walked into the hall, where Bella and the dwarves were having supper, waited on by Beorn's wonderful animals, as they had been all day. He smiled, for Bella had braided several flower crowns and set them in the hair of several of the more ornately braided dwarves who had not yet noticed. She had set a crown of daisies in her own hair, and Kili and FIli were fawning over her like she was a true queen. 

“Your Majesty,” cried Kili. 

“Your Radiance,” said his brother. 

“How may we serve you?” 

“Oh, you cheeky rascals,” she said fondly. 

Bilbo supposed she was nearly over whatever the heartbreak of last night had been. At least for the moment. 

And then here came Gandalf, acting as if he had never even left. Of Beorn they had seen and heard nothing since the night before, and they were getting puzzled. 

"Where is our host, and where have you been all day yourself?" they all cried. 

"One question at a time, and none till after supper! I haven't had a bite since breakfast." The Wizard said fiercely. 

He reached across the table for a plate only for it to slide away from him. Everyone stared. Bella giggled. He reached for the plate again. It slid in the opposite direction. Gandalf gave up, and instead reached for a jug of mead. When he tried to pour it into his mug, the jug was suddenly dry and had no liquid.

“Oh, now!” cried the Wizard, “What’s this?” 

He reached for some bread, and it sat up and danced away from him. 

“Curse it!” he cried. 

The dwarves had quite overcome their shock and were casting side glances at Bella with smirks on their faces. The grin on hers did nothing to alleviate their suspicions. 

“Here now!” Gandalf said, catching on, “You young hobbit lass, I would quite like my supper.” 

She shook her head. 

“No sir,” she said firmly, “Not me.” her eyes twinkled across the table. 

They all turned to Bilbo with amazement. 

“Well,” he said, “My mother was a Took.” 

And left it at that, finally allowing the Wizard to eat. At last Gandalf pushed away his plate and jug he had eaten two whole loaves (with masses of butter and honey and clotted cream) and drunk at least a quart of mead and he took out his pipe. 

"I will answer the second question first," he said, "but bless me! this is a splendid place for smoke rings!" 

Indeed for a long time they could get nothing more out of him, he was so busy sending smoke rings dodging round the pillars of the hall, changing them into all sorts of different shapes and colours, and setting them at last chasing one another out of the hole in the roof. They must have looked very queer from outside, popping out into the air one after another, green, blue, red, silvergrey, yellow, white; big ones, little ones; little ones dodging through big ones and joining into figureeights, and going off like a flock of birds into the distance. 

“Well, go on then,” went Bella, “Where have you been?”

"I have been picking out beartracks," he said at last. "There must have been a regular bears' meeting outside here last night. I soon saw that Beorn could not have made them all: there were far too many of them, and they were of various sizes too. I should say there were little bears, large bears, ordinary bears, and gigantic big bears, all dancing outside from dark to nearly dawn. They came from almost every direction, except from the west over the river, from the Mountains. In that direction only one set of footprints led, none coming, only ones going away from here. I followed these as far as the Carrock. There they disappeared into the river, but the water was too deep and strong beyond the rock for me to cross. It is easy enough, as you remember, to get from this bank to the Carrock by the ford, but on the other side is a cliff standing up from a swirling channel. I had to walk miles before I found a place where the river was wide and shallow enough for me to wade and swim, and then miles back again to pick up the tracks again. By that time it was too late for me to follow them far. They went straight off in the direction of the pinewoods on the east side of the Misty Mountains, where we had our pleasant little party with the Wargs the night before last. And now I think I have answered your first question, too," ended Gandalf, and he sat a long while silent. 

Bilbo thought he knew what the wizard meant. "What shall we do," he cried, "if he leads all the wargs and the goblins down here? We shall all be caught and killed! I thought you said he was not a friend of theirs. I thought he said he hated them." 

"So I did. So he did. And don't be silly! You had better go to bed, your wits are sleepy."  
The hobbit lad felt quite crushed, and as there seemed nothing else to do he did go to bed (with Bella following close behind with a glare to the Wizard that could scare even Morgoth himself); and while the dwarves were still singing songs he dropped asleep in her lap with her stroking his hair much like the previous night, still puzzling his little head about Beorn, till he dreamed a dream of hundreds of black bears dancing slow heavy dances round and round in the moonlight in the courtyard. 

Then he woke up when everyone else was asleep, and he heard a scraping, scuffling, snuffling, and growling. He could do nothing but ignore it, however, and soon fell back asleep. 

Next morning they were all wakened by Beorn himself. 

"So here you all are still!" he said. He picked up Bilbo and laughed: "Not eaten up by Wargs or goblins or wicked bears yet I see"; and he poked Mr. Baggins' waistcoat most disrespectfully. 

"Little bunny is getting nice and fat again on bread and honey," he chuckled.

Bella kicked him in the shin. Bilbo was staring down from the great height he was being held at, quite terrified out of his wits. 

“Set him down! I didn’t take those bloody chains off of you for you to treat my brother as a pet!”

Bilbo came out of his shock long enough to stare down at his sister, “Listen to you, cursing like a dwarf!” 

“Well, if it fits, it fits,” she replied churlishly. 

“Ell,” Beorn chuckled, “This little bunny isn’t a little bunny after all, she’s a little mother bear protecting her cub!”

He dropped Bilbo beside her with a laugh. "Come and have some more food!" 

So they all went to breakfast with him, soon forgetting all else with the promise and delivery of good food. Beorn was most jolly for a change; indeed he seemed to be in a splendidly good humour and set them all laughing with his funny stories; nor did they have to wonder long where he had been or why he was so nice to them, for he told them himself. He had been over the river and right back up into the mountains, from which you can guess that he could travel quickly, in bear's shape at any rate. 

From the burnt wolfglade he had soon found out that part of their story was true; but he had found more than that: he had caught a warg and a goblin wandering in the woods. From these he had got news: the goblin patrols were still hunting with wargs for the dwarves, and they were fiercely angry because of the death of the Great Goblin, and also because of the burning of the chief wolf's nose and the death from the wizard's fire of many of his chief servants. 

So much they told him when he forced them, but he guessed there was more wickedness than this afoot, and that a great raid of the whole goblin army with their wolf-allies into the lands shadowed by the mountains might soon be made to find the dwarves, or to take vengeance on the men and creatures that lived there, and who they thought must be sheltering them. 

"It was a good story, that of yours," said Beorn, "but I like it still better now I am sure it is true. You must forgive my not taking your word. If you lived near the edge of Mirkwood, you would take the word of no one that you did not know as well as your brother or better. As it is, I can only say that I have hurried home as fast as I could to see that you were safe, and to offer you any help that I can. I shall think more kindly of dwarves after this. Killed the Great Goblin, killed the Great Goblin indeed!" he chuckled fiercely to himself. 

"What did you do with the goblin and the warg?" asked Bilbo suddenly.

"Come and see!" said Beorn, and they followed round the house.

A goblin's head was stuck outside the gate and a warg skin was nailed to a tree just beyond. Beorn was a fierce enemy. But now he was their friend, and Gandalf thought it wise to tell him their whole story and the reason of their journey, so that they could get the most help he could offer.


	30. Of Dratted Kings

Bella stared at the head of the goblin mounted on a pike with a glare. There was someone else’s head that she was imagining in place of that. A certain Dwarf King head to be exact. Yes, he would look quite nice mounted on a pike. She could even spread his coat out and nail it to a tree like the warg skin. 

She wasn’t quite sure when she had given him the impression that she was a harlot, even if her behavior of late was decidedly un-Bagginsish and very much Tookish, but she had not abandoned all of her sense in this journey she was taking. 

And for him to speak of that to her was very un-kingish and very much rude and hurtful and just plain scandalous. 

For Yavanna’s sake, she was just a hobbit, she knew that, but for him to say _that_ to her and act as if he supposed she would fall at her feet begging him for attention, was so….so….she didn’t even know. 

She would by lying if she said she wasn’t excited about the prospect of actually getting to talk to Thorin alone. Privately. Away from prying eyes (with the exception of Nori of course, the Spy Master would undoubtedly turn up wherever she was, as she noticed he had been doing of late). 

She would also be lying if she said she wasn’t hoping for perhaps another kiss, or at least the promise of more. After all, the King could _kiss._

But she was a hobbit, and she was raised a hobbit, and she would die a hobbit. She was still somewhat respectable. Even though other hobbits were sometimes known for marrying just to increase their wealth and standing (like a certain Sackville-Baggins she could think of) she had made a promise to her mother, in what now seemed to be a lifetime ago in the Shire, that she would never enter a marriage of convenience. 

She had also promised her mother that even if she did take a boy down to Farmer Maggot’s haystacks (this was one of the more embarrassing conversations that she had ever had with her mother, her face was red and hot and that day her Magic kept slipping out and doing odd things which just made it worse) she wouldn’t do anything she wasn’t prepared for.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re married, my sweet,” said Belladonna Baggins the First, “I don’t care. Your father might, but he has no leg to stand on, sliding his hand up my skirts weeks before the wedding-” here Bella choked on her tea (for of course they were having this conversation with plenty of tea) “So I cannot in good conscience ask you to wait if you don’t want to wait, but for the sake of the Green Mother, my love, please love the one you choose. You can only choose your first once, so let it be with someone who matters.”   
The conversation had continued down avenues that Bella would rather not think about as her mother continued to educate her in the ways of love. Indeed, she was very surprised that she was not permanently red afterwards. But she had promised. 

She had promised, and she would keep that promise, no matter what the pleadings of Dwarf Kings were. 

But for him to stroke her ear, and to comment about her feet, and to proposition her all in one breath? 

Goodness, she had just gotten him to stop calling her a halfling (which she thought was a small sign of respect, but now she supposed not), and then he had to pull a stunt like that!

Well, he hadn’t wanted to talk. Not much anyway. He had walked her around the side of the house, out of sight and sound of the others. In the dark of the night, he had pressed her up to the wall, boxing her in, in a way that sent a thrill rushing through her. She was quite prepared to be kissed senseless, if that was where this was going. 

He was looking at her in wonder, and the heaviness of his gaze made her feel like something beautiful and precious. His hand had raised up to stroke her cheek, and she leaned into his touch. 

“I cannot bear it,” he said quietly, “Even if you are just a hobbit, and I, a dwarf. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I want you.” 

His hand reached around her face and stroked her ear lightly. 

Well. That sent everything to a screeching halt.

She shoved him back suddenly (and if Nori, who was indeed eavesdropping, noticed that she put a little Magic into the blow to actually push him back, he wouldn’t say anything), her face going red with anger and embarrassment. 

“Want me?” she shouted, “You want me? Is that what you brought be out here for, to tumble me in the grass?” 

His wondrous gaze had transformed in the moonlight to one of stark confusion, “Well, of course,” he replied slowly, “Why else would I bring you out here away from the others? I wanted your honest answer without pressure.” 

“Pressure? Pressure? You say they would pressure me into being with you like that?” 

“Well, only if they thought it would make you happy,” was his response, “But, Bella-”

“Miss Baggins! If you please!”

His face fell at the insistence in her voice, “I don’t understand. I thought you would at least consider it before refusing me. Though I do not understand why I am being refused. I say that even if we are of different races we are compatible. Even if you do grow a sparse beard on your feet.” 

Well. That did it. 

She slapped him clean across the face, and made no apology for adding wind to the blow, enough to sweep him off his feet with little effort. 

“You’ll not have me, Thorin Oakenshield. Not now, and certainly not ever. I am many things, sure, but a breaker of promises is not one of them, and I made a promise to my mother a long time ago. That promise is something I will keep, for I am a Baggins, and a Baggins keeps her word.” 

Her tone turned hurtful, “I thought you were coming to respect me, sir, but I see I was wrong. I’ll have nothing else to do with you. Goodnight, your Majesticness.” 

She swept away to her bed, and if she cried for a little while laying there next to Bilbo, well, no one mentioned it. Right before slipping into sleep, she heard the sound of firmaliar boots stomping past her bed. They paused for a moment, and she knew he was staring down at her. She didn’t move, and soon the boot steps faded away. So did she. 

And now here she was, planning regicide. She shook her head to clear it. 

“Alright, Bell?” 

She turned to her brother and nodded, “Alright Bilbo.” She gave him a small smile, and he drew her into his side, shooting a glare of his own at Thorin. 

“I know he made you cry.” 

“Let’s not think of it.” they started walking slowly away, “It’s over, whatever it was, and that’s all there is to it.” 

“Bell,” said Bilbo gently, “He’s your Half.” 

Behind them, Beorn was speaking to the rest of the Company. 

This is what he promised to do for them. He would provide ponies for each of them, and a horse for Gandalf, for their journey to the forest, and he would lade them with food to last them for weeks with care, and packed so as to be as easy as possible to carry: nuts, flour, sealed jars of dried fruits, and red earthenware pots of honey, and twicebaked cakes that would keep good a long time, and on a little of which they could march far. 

The making of these was one of his secrets; but honey was in them, as in most of his foods, and they were good to eat, though they made one thirsty. 

Water, he said, they would not need to carry this side of the forest, for there were streams and springs along the road.

"But your way through Mirkwood is dark, dangerous and difficult," he said. "Water is not easy to find there, nor food. The time is not yet come for nuts (though it may be past and gone indeed before you get to the other side), and nuts are about all that grows there fit for food; in there the wild things are dark, queer, and savage. I will provide you with skins for carrying water, and I will give you some bows and arrows. But I doubt very much whether anything you find in Mirkwood will be wholesome to eat or to drink. There is one stream there, I know, black and strong which crosses the path.” 

Here he paused, looking at them fiercely, and though it hardly seemed possible, his words grew more forceful. 

“That you should neither drink of, nor bathe in; for I have heard that it carries enchantment and a great drowsiness and forgetfulness. And in the dim shadows of that place I don't think you will shoot anything, wholesome or unwholesome, without straying from the path. That you MUST NOT do, for any reason.” 

Another pause, and his tone grew slightly softer, “That is all the advice I can give you. Beyond the edge of the forest I cannot help you much; you must depend on your luck and your courage and the food I send with you. At the gate of the forest I must ask you to send back my horse and my ponies. But I wish you all speed, and my house is open to you, if ever you come back this way again. Rest, for you have a few more days before you should leave. Rest, and gain strength, and prepare. I will gather these things for you, and have them ready for when you are to depart."

Once he was done talking, he walked away from them presumably to gather the supplies he had spoken of. 

Bella was most certainly not looking at Thorin, and Thorin was most certainly not looking at her. 

In fact, that was what they did for the duration of their stay over the next few days in Beorn’s house. They did not look, speak, or even think about each other. Well, the last one was certainly a lie, but neither of them will ever admit it. 

They ate, they slept, they spoke. Dwalin dragged Bilbo and Bella out to the gardens every morning to continue with their training. Bella privately thought that he was showing off for Nori. Whenever they were outside, the Spy Master wasn’t far behind, Ori usually on his coat tails. They would sit and watch, and Dwalin (more often than not) would find some excuse to shed his shirt and show off his muscles and tattoos. Indeed, many of the dwarves took advantage of the heat, and the fact that it made Bella blush and sputter like a schoolgirl was a bonus in their minds. It became a game of who could embarrass the hobbits more (for we must not leave out dear Bilbo). 

All of a sudden before Bella even realized it, the day was here. It was time to leave. They packed and dressed (for Beorn had provided them with his own leather that was made from warg skins and fabrics to replace the clothes that they had worn since Rivendell, and Dori was a Master Tailor who soon had them all done up and proper-fitting in short order).All that morning they were busy with preparations. 

Soon after midday they ate with Beorn for the last time, and after the meal they mounted the steeds he was lending them (Bella and Bilbo groaned at the thought of riding again), and bidding him many farewells they rode off through his gate at a good pace. As soon as they left his high hedges at the east of his fenced lands they turned north and then bore to the northwest. By his advice they were no longer making for the main forest road to the south of his land. Had they followed the pass, their path would have led them down the stream from the mountains that joined the great river miles south of the Carrock. 

At that point there was a deep ford which they might have passed, if they had still had their ponies, and beyond that a track led to the skirts of the wood and to the entrance of the old forest road. But Beorn had warned them that that way was now often used by the goblins, while the forest road itself, he had heard, was overgrown and disused at the eastern end and led to impassable marshes where the paths had long been lost. Its eastern opening had also always been far to the south of the Lonely Mountain, and would have left them still with a long and difficult northward march when they got to the other side. 

North of the Carrock the edge of Mirkwood drew closer to the borders of the Great River, and though here the Mountains too drew down nearer, Beorn advised them to take this way; for at a place a few days' ride due north of the Carrock was the gate of a littleknown pathway through Mirkwood that led almost straight towards the Lonely Mountain.   
"The goblins," Beorn had said, "will not dare to cross the Great River for a hundred miles north of the Carrock nor to come near my house, it is well protected at night! but I should ride fast; for if they make their raid soon they will cross the river to the south and scour all the edge of the forest so as to cut you off, and Wargs run swifter than ponies. Still you are safer going north, even though you seem to be going back nearer to their strongholds; for that is what they will least expect, and they will have the longer ride to catch you. Be off now as quick as you may!" 

That is why they were now riding in silence, galloping wherever the ground was grassy and smooth, with the mountains dark on their left, and in the distance the line of the river with its trees drawing ever closer. The sun had only just turned west when they started, and till evening it lay golden on the land about them. It was difficult for Bella to think of pursuing goblins behind, and when they had put many miles between them and Beorn's house they began to talk and to sing again and to forget the dark forest path that lay in front. Bilbo saw the look on her face and reached over to clasp her hand briefly. When they pulled apart she saw Thorin glancing back at them from the front of the line, and she glared at him. He promptly turned around, and they rode on. 

But in the evening when the dusk came on and the peaks of the mountains glowered against the sunset they made a camp and set a guard, and most of them slept uneasily with dreams in which there came the howl of hunting wolves and the cries of goblins. Bella slept the uneasiest of all, waking up Bilbo and causing him to grasp her and pull her towards him to quiet her and stop her flailing. 

Still the next morning dawned bright and fair again. There was an autumn-like mist white upon the ground and the air was chill, but soon the sun rose red in the East and the mists vanished, and while the shadows were still long they were off again. So they rode now for two more days, and all the while they saw nothing save grass and flowers and birds and scattered trees, and occasionally small herds of red deer browsing or sitting at noon in the shade. 

Sometimes Bella saw the horns of the harts sticking up out of the long grass, and at first she thought they were the dead branches of trees. She pointed them out to Bilbo, who stared in wonder. That third evening they were so eager to press on, for Beorn had said that they should reach the forestgate early on the fourth day, that they rode still forward after dusk and into the night beneath the moon.

As the light faded Bella thought she saw away to the right, or to the left, the shadowy form of a great bear prowling along in the same direction. But if she dared to mention it to Gandalf, the wizard only said: "Hush! Take no notice!" She was so unsettled that she actually remained silent. 

Next day they started before dawn, though their night had been short. As soon as it was light they could see the forest coming as it were to meet them, or waiting for them like a black and frowning wall before them. The land began to slope up and up, and it seemed to the hobbit that a silence began to draw in upon them. Birds began to sing less. There were no more deer; not even rabbits were to be seen. By the afternoon they had reached the eaves of Mirkwood, and were resting almost beneath the great overhanging boughs of its outer trees. 

Their trunks were huge and gnarled, their branches twisted, their leaves were dark and long. Ivy grew on them and trailed along the ground. 

"Well, here is Mirkwood!" said Gandalf. "The greatest of the forests of the Northern world. I hope you like the look of it. Now you must send back these excellent ponies you have borrowed." 

For he had given his word to Beorn that they would release the beasts before they even entered the forest. What else he had learned from Beorn was troubling, and Bella could sense that he was planning on leaving them to explore the expanse of Dol Guldor. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on their conversation that morning, but she had; and she knew about the goblins, and the orcs, and the alliance with some sorcerer. Whatever all that had been about, it scared Gandalf, and so it scared her. 

She dismounted, and began removing the pack from her pony. Next to her, Bilbo was doing the same. The dwarves were inclined to grumble at this, but the wizard told them they were fools. 

"Beorn is not as far off as you seem to think, and you had better keep your promises anyway, for he is a bad enemy. The Baggins' eyes are sharper than yours, if you have not seen each night after dark a great bear going along with us or sitting far of in the moon watching our camps. Not only to guard you and guide you, but to keep an eye on the ponies too. Beorn may be your friend, but he loves his animals as his children. You do not guess what kindness he has shown you in letting dwarves ride them so far and so fast, nor what would happen to you, if you tried to take them into the forest." 

"What about the horse, then?" said Thorin. "You don't mention sending that back." 

"I don't, because I am not sending it."

"What about your promise then?" 

"I will look after that. I am not sending the horse back, I am riding it!" 

Then they knew that Gandalf was going to leave them at the very edge of Mirkwood, and they were in despair. But nothing they could say would change his mind.

"It is no use arguing. I have some pressing business away south; and I am already late through bothering with you people. We may meet again before all is over, and then again of course we may not. That depends on your luck and on your courage and sense; and I am sending the Baggins hobbits with you. I have told you before that they have more about them than you guess, and you will find that out before long. So cheer up Bilbo, Bella, and don't look so glum. Cheer up Thorin and Company! This is your expedition after all. Think of the treasure at the end, and forget the forest and the dragon, at any rate until tomorrow morning!" 

They made camp swiftly, settling down for the night. Bella and Bilbo both were restless as near to the forest as they were. 

“It’s evil, can you feel it?” Bilbo asked. 

“Not evil,” Bella corrected, “Sick. There is a great darkness pressing in. It’s tainted.” 

“I feel it pulling me to heal it,” Bilbo admitted. 

“No,” Bella whispered harshly, not wanting anyone else to know how unsettled they were, “You mustn't! It’s far too big, and you are far too young. Promise me you won’t even try.”

He was silent. 

“Promise me Bilbo!”

“Fine, fine. I promise.” 

She didn’t think he meant it, but let it lie. They fell asleep, twitching and rolling over all night long. 

When tomorrow morning came Gandalf still said the same. So now there was nothing left to do but to fill their water skins at a clear spring they found close to the forest gate, and finish unpacking the ponies. 

They distributed the packages as fairly as they could, though Bilbo thought his lot was wearisomely heavy, and did not at all like the idea of trudging for miles and miles with all that on his back. Bella noticed her brother grumbling.

"Don't you worry!" said Bella. "It will get lighter all too soon. Before long I expect we shall all wish our packs heavier, when the food begins to run short." 

Then at last they said goodbye to their ponies and turned their heads to the forest. As they went away Bella could have sworn that a thing like a bear left the shadow of the trees and shambled off quickly after them. She wished him one more silent farewell.

At the very edge of the woods now Gandalf too said farewell. 

"Goodbye!" said Gandalf to Thorin. "And goodbye to you all, goodbye! Straight through the forest is your way now. Don't stray off the track! If you do, it is a thousand to one you will never find it again and never get out of Mirkwood; and then I don't suppose I, or any one else, will ever see you again." 

"Do we really have to go through?" groaned the hobbit lad. 

"Yes, you do!" said the wizard, "if you want to get to the other side. You must either go through or give up your quest. And I am not going to allow you to back out now, Mr. Baggins. I am ashamed of you for thinking of it. You have got to look after all these dwarves for me," he laughed. 

"No! no!" said Bilbo. "I didn't mean that. I meant, is there no way round?" 

"There is, if you care to go two hundred miles or so out of your way north, and twice that south. But you wouldn't get a safe path even then. There are no safe paths in this part of the world. Remember you are over the Edge of the Wild now, and in for all sorts of fun wherever you go. Before you could get round Mirkwood in the North you would be right among the slopes of the Grey Mountains, and they are simply stiff with goblins, hobgoblins, and the rest of the worst description. Before you could get round it in the South, you would get into the land of the Necromancer; and even you. Bilbo, won't need me to tell you tales of that black sorcerer. I don't advise you to go anywhere near the places overlooked by his dark tower! Stick to the forest track, keep your spirits up, hope for the best, and with a tremendous slice of luck you may come out one day and see the Long Marshes lying below you, and beyond them, high in the East, the Lonely Mountain where dear old Smaug lives, though I hope he is not expecting you." 

"Very comforting you are to be sure," growled Thorin. "Goodbye! If you won't come with us, you had better get off without any more talk!" 

"Goodbye then, and really goodbye!" said Gandalf, and he turned his horse and rode down into the West. But he could not resist the temptation to have the last word. Before he had passed quite out of hearing he turned and put his hands to his mouth and called to them. They heard his voice come faintly: "Goodbye! Be good, take care of yourselves, and DON'T LEAVE THE PATH!"


	31. Of Spiders

Bilbo quite decided that he despised walking. And forests. And plants. Which was very un-hobbity, but he rationalized that it was perfectly acceptable to despise one specific location and all it held. Here he was, walking through the darkest forest he had ever set foot in. His left hand was held by Bella, and his right hand was wrapped around the handle of his pack. Beorn had sent them with plenty of water, food, and even some seed packets for Bilbo and Bella to use if the food ran out. He didn’t think they would go hungry, but the water would have to be rationed. 

The days passed as slowly as molasses dripping from a tree. They walked in single file. The path was narrow and wound in and out among the trunks. Soon the light at the entry gate was like a little bright hole far behind, and the quiet was so deep that their feet seemed to thump along while all the trees leaned over them and listened. As there eyes became used to the dimness they could see a little way to either side in a sort of darkened green glimmer. Occasionally a slender beam of sun that had the luck to slip in through some opening in the leaves far above, and still more luck in not being caught in the tangled boughs and matted twigs beneath, stabbed down thin and bright before them. But this was seldom, and it soon ceased altogether.

Bilbo nearly cried when it did. Hobbits were creatures of nature, and to not have the sun on his face like he had been able to do at any other time was painful. The forest all around seemed almost like it was calling to him. He felt the illness oozing out of every branch, every plant, and he could not deny the pull he felt to heal it. He had promised Bella though, and a Baggins keeps their word. No matter how hard it is. 

It was clear that all felt the effects of the dark woods. They traveled nearly silently, making camp when they were tired and continuing on when Thorin thought that they had had enough respite. They trudged on, one foot in front of the other. Bilbo and Bella were affected the worst of all. They could barely see, barely eat, and hardly spoke. Whatever evil power had done this drew from a Magic much darker then they had ever encountered. It sickened them, even more so than the dwarves. But still they marched on. 

There were black squirrels in the wood. As Bilbo's sharp inquisitive eyes got used to seeing things he could catch glimpses of them whisking off the path and scuttling behind tree-trunks. There were queer noises too, grunts, scufflings, and hurryings in the undergrowth, and among the leaves that lay piled endlessly thick in places on the forestfloor; but what made the noises he could not see. The nastiest things they saw were the cobwebs: dark dense cobwebs with threads extraordinarily thick, often stretched from tree to tree, or tangled in the lower branches on either side of them. 

There were none stretched across the path, but whether because some magic kept it clear, or for what other reason they could not guess. It was not long before they grew to hate the forest as heartily as they had hated the tunnels of the goblins, and it seemed to offer even less hope of any ending. But they had to go on and on, long after they were sick for a sight of the sun and of the sky, and longed for the feel of wind on their faces. There was no movement of air down under the forestroof, and it was everlastingly still and dark and stuffy. 

“Come on lass,” Dwalin was pleading, “Just a bite.” 

They were camped for the night, and he was trying to get Bella to eat something. Bilbo had already had his share, and was curled up next to her. He wasn’t sure how many days or even weeks had passed, just that they had been in Mirkwood for a very long time. Bella was looking thinner, paler, and more wan by the day. 

“Just a bite, please Bell.” he asked. 

She sighed, the circles under her eyes seeming to grow darker, “Alright.” She bit the biscuit Dwalin was holding out to her. 

Across the little spot on the path where they were currently camped, Bilbo could sense Thorin staring at Bella again. He shot the dwarf a glare. He still wasn’t sure what the dwarf had done to hurt his sister so, but when he found out (and he would find out) he was certain not even Mahal and Yavanna would be able to stop him. 

Nori was seated next to him, curled around Ori. 

“I’m sorry.” Bella told him, “For what I said at Beorn’s. I didn’t know.” 

“It’s alright,” Nori told her, “I was wrong to act that way.” 

They settled in for the night, trying to shake off the wood-sickness that soaked into their very skin. As the hours passed, as they did every night, the branches of the trees seemed to draw ever closer, boxing and caging in the hobbits. Even the dwarves felt it, who were used to tunnelling, and lived at times for long whiles without the light of the sun; but the hobbits, who liked holes to make a house in but not to spend summer days in, felt they were being slowly suffocated. 

Bilbo’s opinion was that the nights were the worst. It then became pitch-dark not what you call pitch-dark, but really pitch; so black that you really could see nothing. Bilbo tried flapping his hand in front of his nose, but he could not see it at all. Well, perhaps it is not true to say that they could see nothing: they could see eyes. They slept all closely huddled together, and took it in turns to watch; and when it was Bilbo's turn he would see gleams in the darkness round them, and sometimes pairs of yellow or red or green eyes would stare at him from a little distance, and then slowly fade and disappear and slowly shine out again in another place. And sometimes they would gleam down from the branches just above him; and that was most terrifying. But the eyes that he liked the least were horrible pale bulbous sort of eyes. 

"Insect eyes" he thought, "not animal eyes, only they are much too big." 

Although it was not yet very cold, they tried lighting watchfires at night, but they soon gave that up. It seemed to bring hundreds and hundreds of eyes all round them, though the creatures, whatever they were, were careful never to let their bodies show in the little flicker of the flames. Worse still it brought thousands of dark grey and black moths, some nearly as big as your hand, flapping and whirring round their ears. They flew into Bella’s hair and she screamed until they were able to remove them. They could not stand the cursed moths, nor the huge bats, black as a tophat, either, so they gave up fires and sat at night and dozed in the enormous uncanny darkness. 

All this went on for what seemed to the hobbit ages upon ages; and he was always hungry, for they were extremely careful with their provisions. Even so, as days followed days, and still the forest seemed just the same, they began to get anxious. The food would not last forever: it was in fact already beginning to get low. It was true that Beorn gave them seeds for vegetables, but with no fire and no way to cook them as they walked deeper into the wood they were somewhat useless. No one wanted to eat a raw potato, though Bilbo supposed they would if they got hungry enough. 

This was their state when one day they found their path blocked by running water. It flowed fast and strong but not very wide right across the way, and it was black, or looked like it was in the gloom. It was well that Beorn had warned them against it, or they would have drunk from it, whatever its colour, and filled some of their emptied skins at its bank. As it was they only thought of how to cross it without wetting themselves in its water. There had been a bridge of wood across, but it had rotted and fallen leaving only the broken posts near the bank.

Bilbo kneeling on the brink and peering forward cried: "There is a boat against the far bank! Now why couldn't it have been this side!" 

"How far away do you think it is?" asked Thorin, for by now they knew Bilbo had the sharpest eyes among them. 

Bilbo felt the urge to glare at the Dwarf King, but didn’t spare him a backwards glance. "Not at all far. I shouldn't think above twelve yards." 

"Twelve yards! I should have thought it was thirty at least, but my eyes don't see as well as they used a hundred years ago. Still twelve yards is as good as a mile. We can't jump it, and we daren't try to wade or swim." 

“A hundred years ago,” Bella exclaimed, unable to help herself, “Why, how old are you exactly?” 

“Nearing two-hundred.” 

Bella turned white. Bilbo realized had been kissing (and yes, he knew she had kissed Thorin) someone older than their grandfather. Not that he really minded, nor did he think she did, but it was still something of a shock. 

He also realized that this made Thorin barely a tween by dwarf standards when Smaug attacked Erebor. The thought made him a little bit sicker than he already felt. 

"Can any of us throw a rope?" Nori asked, cutting in, “We already know we are all ancient compared to you. 

"What's the good of that?” Gloin replied, “The boat is sure to be tied up, even if we could hook it, which I doubt." 

"I don't believe it is tied," said Bilbo, and Bella agreed, "though of course I can't be sure in this light; but it looks to me as if it was just drawn up on the bank, which is low just there where the path goes down into the water." 

"Dori is the strongest, but Kili is the youngest and still has the best sight," said Thorin. "Come here Kili, and see if you can see the boat Mr. Baggins is talking about." 

Kili eyed the other side of the bank critically. “I can see the shape of it,” he said, “I know where it is.”

“Do you think you could hit it with an arrow?” Dwalin asked.

“No,” Kili said, “I’m running out of arrows as it is, I daren’t risk one on the chance I may hit it from here. Nori, tie a rope around your small mace, it’s hooked. We can try throwing it across the river.”

One of others brought him a rope. They had several with them, and on the end of the longest they fastened Nori’s small hooked mace. Fili took this in his hand, balanced it for a moment, and then flung it across the stream. They heard it hit the water. 

"Not far enough!" said Bilbo who was peering forward. 

"A couple of feet and you would have dropped it on to the boat,” Bella added, “Try again. I don't suppose the magic is strong enough to hurt you, if you just touch a bit of wet rope." 

Fili picked up the hook when he had drawn it back, rather doubtfully all the same. This time he threw it with greater strength. 

"Steady!" said Bilbo, "you have thrown it right into the wood on the other side now. Draw it back gently." Fili hauled the rope back slowly, and after a while Bilbo said: "Carefully! It is lying on the boat; let's hope the hook will catch." 

It did. The rope went taut, and Fili pulled in vain. Kili came to his help, and then Oin and Gloin. They tugged and tugged, and suddenly they all fell over on their backs. Bilbo was on the lockout, however, caught the rope, and with a piece of stick fended off the little black boat as it came rushing across the stream. 

"Help!" he shouted, and Balin was just in time to seize the boat before it floated off down the current. 

"It was tied after all," said the older dwarf, "That was a good pull, my lads; and a good job that our rope was the stronger."

"Who'll cross first?" asked Bilbo. 

"I shall," said Thorin, "and you will come with me, and Bella and Balin. That's as many as the boat will hold at a time. After that Kili and Oin and Gloin and Don; next On and Nori, Bifur and Bofur; and last Dwalin and Bombur." 

"I'm always last and I don't like it," said Bombur. "It's somebody else's turn today." 

"You should not be so fat. As you are, you must be with the last and lightest boatload. Don't start grumbling against orders, or something bad will happen to you." 

“You shouldn’t call him fat, you know.” Bella chastised, forgetting for a moment she was not speaking to Thorin, “Any hobbit lass would be happy to have one that eats so well. Proves the quality of their cooking.” 

“So is that what you value,” Thorin asked, “Whether or not someone likes your cookin?” 

Bella huffed and did not reply. “Does anyone see the oars? 

"There aren't any oars. How are you going to push the boat back to the far bank?” asked Bilbo. 

"Give me another length of rope and another hook," said Fili, and when they had got it ready, he cast into the darkness ahead and as high as he could throw it. Since it did not fall down again, they saw that it must have stuck in the branches. 

"Get in now," said Fili, "and one of you haul on the rope that is stuck in a tree on the other side. One of the others must keep hold of the hook we used at first, and when we are safe on the other side he can hook it on, and you can draw the boat back." 

In this way they were all soon on the far bank safe across the enchanted stream. Dwalin had just scrambled out with the coiled rope on his arm, and Bombur (still grumbling) was getting ready to follow, when something bad did happen. There was a sound of hooves on the path ahead. Out of the gloom came suddenly the shape of a deer. It charged into the dwarves and bowled them over, then gathered itself for a leap. High it sprang and cleared the water with a mighty jump. As it reached the further bank it stumbled. The shadows swallowed it up, but they heard the sound of hooves quickly falter and then go still. They all stared after it in wonder. 

A dreadful wail came from Bilbo. "Bombur has fallen in! Bombur is drowning!" he cried.

It was only too true. Bombur had only one foot on the land when the deer bore down on him, and sprang over him. He had stumbled, thrusting the boat away from the bank, and then toppled back into the dark water, his hands slipping off the slimy roots at the edge, while the boat spun slowly off and disappeared. They could still see his hood above the water when they ran to the bank. 

Quickly they flung a rope with a hook towards him. His hand caught it, and they pulled him to the shore. He was drenched from hair to boots, of course, but that was not the worst. When they laid him on the bank he was already fast asleep, with one hand clutching the rope so tight that they could not get it from his grasp; and fast asleep he remained in spite of all they could do. They were still standing over him, cursing their ill luck, and Bombur's clumsiness, and lamenting the loss of the boat. 

Then they all fell silent; and as they sat it seemed they could hear the noise of a great hunt going by to the north of the path, though they saw no sign of it. There they sat for a long while and did not dare to make a move. Bombur slept on with a smile on his fat face, as if he no longer cared for all the troubles that vexed them. They were a gloomy party that night, and the gloom gathered still deeper on them in the following days. They had crossed the enchanted stream; but beyond it the path seemed to straggle on just as before, and in the forest they could see no change. 

Burdened with the heavy body of Bombur, for they had to carry along with them as best they could, taking the wearisome task in turns of four each while the others shared their packs. If these had not become all too light in the last few days, they would never have managed it; but a slumbering and smiling Bombur was a poor exchange for packs filled with food however heavy. 

In a few days a time came when there was practically nothing left to eat or to drink. Nothing wholesome could they see growing in the woods, only funguses and herbs with pale leaves and unpleasant smell. They could only eat the raw vegetables that the hobbits were growing, but even those were in short supply. Bombur had been carrying the majority of the supply in his packs when he fell in the water. 

Bilbo clung to Bella all this while, scared out of his wits like the tween he was. Nights were the worst, for both of them. Bella would wake silently screaming, tears streaming down her face. Bilbo would twitch, plagued by dark dreams and a sense of foreboding. Every day the forest beckoned him to heal it. At times they heard disquieting laughter. Sometimes there was singing in the distance too. The laughter was the laughter of fair voices not of goblins, and the singing was beautiful, but it sounded eerie and strange, and they were not comforted, rather they hurried on from those parts with what strength they had left. Two days later they found their path going downwards and before long they were in a valley filled almost entirely with a mighty growth of oaks. 

“The path is this way,” Dwalin was saying. They followed him for many hours. 

“Air,” Bofur said all of a sudden, “I need air.” 

It was as if his complaint spurred the rest of them into speaking. 

“My head is spinning!” cried Oin, and he spun in a circle. “What’s happening? 

Thorin grabbed him by the shoulders and held him still. “Keep moving.” 

But Dwalin, who was still at the head of the line, was frozen where he stood. 

“Dwalin, why have you stopped?” Thorin asked. 

“The path,” Dwalin said lowly, “It’s gone!”

“Disapeared,” cried Nori, coming up behind the guardsman, “But how?” 

Ori came to a stop by his brother, “What’s going on?” 

“We’ve lost the path,” Bofur lamented. 

“Find it,” Thorin demanded, “All of you, look!”

“I don’t remember this place,” Balin said as he looked around the ground, “None of it’s familiar!”

“Well it’s got to be here,” Dori said crossly, “Where else could it have gone?” 

“What hour is it?” Thorin asked as he pressed a hand to his head, “I grow weary.” 

“I don’t know,” Dwalin replied, “I don’t even know what day it is.” 

"Is there no end to this accursed forest?" said Thorin. 

Dori bent down suddenly and picked up something small from the ground. He turned it over and over and over in his hands, staring at it intently. Bifur came up next to him and catching sight of it, he said something in dwarvish to Bofur. Bofur answered his call, and came by to examine the thing in Dori’s hands. 

“Look,” Dori was saying, “A tobacco pouch. There must be dwarves in these woods.” 

“Tobacco! Why, my father grew tobacco. Can’t nobody on this side of the Shire grow Old Toby like my Da!”

Bilbo grasped Bella by the shoulders. “Bell, we aren’t in the Shire. WE haven’t been for a long time!”

“What are you talking about,” she asked in a sour tone, “Of course we’re in the Shire, we’re hobbits, Baggins of Bag End. Where else would we be.” 

She pushed away from him, and he had no choice but to let her go. Bofur had the object now, and was examining it closely. 

“Those dwarves must be from the Blue Mountains. This looks exactly like mine.” 

BIlbo snatched it from him. “Because it is yours, you understand? We’re going around in circles, we are very much lost!”

“We are not lost,” Thorin replied angrily, “We are heading east.” 

“This from the dwarf who got lost twice in Hobbiton looking for Bag End.” Bella snarked. 

“I did not get lost, you’re little valley is a rabbit warren with many little dens, and none of them were the one I needed until I found it. But we are going east, that I do know.” 

“But which was east, we can’t tell. We’ve lost the sun.” 

Thorin smirked, “Lost it like I lost your favor?” 

“You never even had it,” she bit out. 

Meanwhile, Bilbo was pondering. “The sun. The sun. The sun.” A light came on in his eyes, and he looked up, “Up there!”

He began to climb the trunk of the tree nearest to him, scurrying like a squirrel up into the top. Below he could hear them still squabbling, but he paid them no mind. He had a mission after all.  
He pushed his way through the tangled twigs with many a slap in the eye; he was greened and grimed from the old bark of the greater boughs; more than once he slipped and caught himself just in time; and at last, after a dreadful struggle in a difficult place where there seemed to be no convenient branches at all, he got near the top. 

All the time he was wondering whether there were spiders in the tree, and how he was going to get down again (except by falling). In the end he poked his head above the roof of leaves, and then he found spiders all right. But they were only small ones of ordinary size, and they were after the butterflies. Bilbo's eyes were nearly blinded by the light. He could hear the dwarves shouting up at him from far below, and Bella calling his name, but he could not answer, only hold on and blink. 

The sun was shining brilliantly, and it was a long while before he could bear it. When he could, he saw all round him a sea of dark green, ruffled here and there by the breeze; and there were hundreds of butterflies everywhere. Gaze as much as he might, he could see no end to the trees and the leaves in any direction. His heart, that had been lightened by the sight of the sun and the feel of the wind, sank back into his toes: there was no food to go back to down below. 

But even though he was starving, the sight of the tops of the trees stretching in every direction and being in the sun gave him hope. And then he saw it, far off into the distance. 

“The Lonely Mountain,” he breathed. His voice grew louder and more excited, “The Moutain! The Mountain! Ho down there, I can see the Mountain!”

It was still leagues away, but closer than it had been. Below him was now silent, and that was not the reaction that he was expecting. 

“Hello!” he shouted down, “I said I can see the Mountain!” 

Still he received no response. He began to climb down, only to notice that his feet were quite stuck. 

“Oh, come on!” They were coated in spiderweb. 

He was jerked down, caught off balance, and swiftly wrapped in even more web. The spider was twice as big as he, and caught by surprise as he was he stood no chance against it. It bound him tightly, with his sword pressed to his hands, and dragged him off down the tree once the job was finished. Bilbo wiggled and squirmed, and managed to maneuver himself so that his sword was held as properly as it could be in the web. He laid in wait (which in truth was very surprising, since he was normally very impatient). 

Soon enough, the spider that had captured him crawled over the top of him. Bilbo took his little sword in his hands and pushed up, stabbing the spider and cutting through the web. The spider screamed and flaided around violently, trying to get away from the pain. Bilbo stabbed, and he stabbed, and he stabbed, until the spider was finally dead and fell down the tree onto the ground. 

The young hobbit darted behind a nearby tree as more spiders chattered and crawled around the webs in the trees, investigating the cries of their fallen foe. He didn’t want to be seen. 

Wait. 

He didn’t want to be seen. 

He pulled the ring out of his pocket, where it had sat all this while. Sliding it onto his finger, he braced himself as the world became cloaked in grey. All of a sudden, he could understand what the spiders were all saying to one another. 

“Kill them!” they were saying, “Kill them! Eat them now while all their blood is running.” 

Bilbo looked around, and saw a great many lumps of web strung up in the trees. They were twitching and jerking, and he could hear muttered curses coming from the webs. With a start, he realized where his missing companions had gone. 

“Their hides are tough,” hissed one spider, “This could be juicy inside.”   
“Well stick it, stick it again!” said another, “Finish it off.” 

“The meat is alive. It’s kicking.” 

“Well, kill them! Kill them now!” 

“We will feast tonight!”

Bilbo looked around, and saw a section of web that traveled far down into the trees behind him. Getting an idea, he pulled a branch off the tree next to him and threw it down the web, causing it to jump and move. All of the spiders froze for a moment before scurrying in the direction of the motion. 

“What is it?” they cried, “More meat? More feast!” 

And then they were gone, and Bilbo took his chance. One by one, he sliced the tops of the webs that the dwarves and Bella were caught up in. He heard a clicking over his shoulder, and turned to see a lone spider standing directly in front of him. 

“Where is it?” the vile thing hissed, “What is it?” 

He hit it on the face with his sword, beating and stabbing and thrusting with the blade. The beast screamed and screamed. 

“It stings! It stings!”

Bilbo stabbed one final time, putting all of his weight behind the blade and shoving it down into the spiders head. It fell of the branch and a few moments later he heard it hit the ground. He looked at the blade in his hand. 

“Sting.” he said thoughtfully, “That’s a good name. Sting.” 

Muffled curses coming from next to him made him remember what he was doing in the first place, and he swiftly cut all the rest of the web sacks down. They hit the ground with a thud, and the dwarves came to life, using what weapons they could reach to cut themselves free. Covered in webs from head to toe, they were a comical sight even in the dire circumstances. Bilbo watched as Thorin pulled his sister to her feet. Bella jerked her hand back from the dwarf as soon as she was steady, and stalked off to stand beside Dwalin. Thorin’s face fell. 

Bella looked around. “Where’s Bilbo?”  
“Up here!” Bilbo called, but she could not hear him. 

Another spider jumped down from above and knocked him out of the tree. Once he hit the ground, he felt the absence of the ring. 

“Where is it?” he cried, scurrying around the ground for it, “Where is it?”

He howled in frustration, digging around in the dirt for the ring. A gleam caught his eye, and there it was, caught around the tip of a spider leg. He charged without thought, hacking and stabbing and beating the spider down. 

“No! No! No!” He hit it some more, stabbing it between the eyes. As it fell dead, he pulled the balde free with a grunt and sliced off the leg with the ring. He held it up with a triumphant grin, removing the ring and cradling it close to his chest. He looked at the mangled corpse of the spider beside him and felt a pang of remorse for the violence he had just committed. He stared down at the ring, wondering how he could feel so much desperation for one little thing. 

Shouts came from beyond, and he shoved the ring back on his finger without a thought. IT was a good thing too, for just then elves appeared into the clearing, killing what was left of the spiders (the dwarves and Bella had taken out a fair few) and surrounding the dwarves. Bilbo watched as a Blonde elf leveled his bow at Thorin, arrow drawn. 

“Do not think that I will not kill you, Dwarf. It would be my pleasure.”


	32. Of Spiders and Elves

Bella stared down at the arrow pointed at Thorin’s face and tried to rein in her anger. 

_If anyone kills him, it’s going to be me!_

She stepped in front of him without a single thought, snarling low and dark in a tone none had heard before. 

“To do so would invite your own demise.” 

The blonde elf in front of her looked down at the little thing in shock, before dismissing her entirely. A part of her understood. Why would a little thing like her have any hope of stopping him? It was only when Dwalin reached around Thorin, pulling her back towards himself, that she remembered the discussion she had had with Gandalf before they left Beorn’s house. 

You see, for a large chunk of time that they had spent at Beorn’s Gandalf had been drawing her to the side and teaching her how to use her Magic. 

_“It’s a part of you,” he had told her, “And I suspect your emotions, what you are feeling, greatly affect it. You are one of the most powerful hobbits I have ever encountered, and I largely suspect that your power borders that of a fairy-”_

_“Fairies are real?” she had interrupted to ask?_

_“As real as you or I. You must control your emotions, Belladonna. You must feel the Magic travel through you. It is more a part of you than anything else in this world, it will protect you, and you will use it. But you must never use it with ill intent. Dark Magic is very real, my dear, and I will not have it taint you. You must promise me that you will guard your power with care.”_

_She had promised, and so he had trained her, teaching her to take the feeling inside of herself and directing it into the actions she wanted to happen. The very earth beneath her bent to her will, water obeyed her direction, and all of nature answered her call._

Gandalf’s warning had been echoing in her ears since they had entered the forest, and she resolved more than ever to listen to it. She cursed herself for forgetting. Dwalin pulled her back into his chest, and she leaned into the comforting embrace. 

“Lass, if I were you, I wouldn’t.” 

She nodded, sensing instinctively that they were surrounded. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of screaming. Looking around, she realized that they were one hobbit and one dwarf short. The hobbit, well, she could feel her brother standing somewhere near them, but as for the dwarf…

Kili was the one screaming, running as fast as he could from the one spider the elves (and she largely suspected Bilbo) had missed. It caught him and dragged him down between its legs. 

“Kili!” Fili screamed. 

Just then, another elf leaped out of the trees, killing the two spiders that had followed her, one with an arrow and the other with a throw of her dagger. She twirled, deadly as poison, and Bella was in awe of her grace. Firing a shot over her shoulder, she killed the spider attacking Kili before finishing off the rest of its friends. 

Kili yelped, for he saw another spider coming out of the trees, “Throw me a dagger, quick!”

The red-haired elf continued to struggle with the spider in front of her, grasping it by the two front legs and pushing it backwards. 

“If you think I will give you a dagger, Dwarf,” she called over her shoulder, “You are mistaken.” 

Quicker than any of them could blink, she pushed the spider forward and shoved a dagger up into its skull from below. As it sagged down, she withdrew the blade (Bella resisted the urge to gag at the black blood that flowed from the body of the monster) and threw it behind her, striking the spider bearing down on Kili directly between the eyes. 

Bella winced at the look of awe and admiration that entered Kili’s eyes as he looked up at his savior. 

_Oh, Thorin won’t like that at all._

She considered the thought for a moment, then smirked. _Nope, he won’t like that at all._ She resisted the urge to laugh. 

They were herded roughly into a small circle, surrounded by elves on all sides. 

“Search them!” The blonde elf called out. 

Bella figured he was their leader. 

The dwarves pushed her to the middle of the circle, and she tried to make herself as small as possible. They were jostled about with no thought for comfort, poked and prodded and relieved of any and all belongings that were found on their person. Bella, thankfully, went unnoticed for the moment. 

“Give that back, that’s private!” she heard Gloin shout. 

“And who is this?” the blonde elf sneered, “Your brother?” 

All of the dwarves bristled at the insult, for Gloin was very fond of the locket and talking about whose portrait was held within. 

“That is my wife.” Gloin said dangerously. 

The elf turned the locket in his hands. “And what of this horrid creature?” 

“My wee lad, Gimli. Now give me back my property, elf.” 

The elf shrugged, turning the locket back over the Gloin, who clutched it protectively to his chest. 

The red-haired elf hauled Kili by the scruff of his neck towards the rest of them and tossed him into the circle. 

_“Tauriel, are the spiders dead?”_

_“Yes, but more will come.”_ She gave him a dark look, _“They’re growing bolder.”_

Bella watched in amusement as two of the elves were still removing small daggers and throwing knives from both Fili and Nori. They had handed over the more obvious ones with a smirk on both their faces, and that smirk had not gone away as they withdrew blade after blade from within the coats of the dwarves. 

The blonde elf let out a gasp. They had found Orcist. 

_“This is an ancient elvish blade.”_ He tossed it up in his hands, testing the balance. _“Forged by my kin.”_

He switched back to the common tongue, “How did you get it?” 

“It was given to me.” Thorin replied. 

An angry look came over the eyes of the elf, and he pointed the sword at Thorin. “Not just a thief, but a liar as well.” 

Well, that did it. Bella’s hold on her temper snapped. 

“I will not have my friends accused of lying and thievery!” she cried. “The sword was found in a troll-hoard by the Great East Road, and we only kept it on the blessing of Lord Elrond of Imraldis. Hold your tongue, you wretched thing, you do not know to whom you speak.” 

She planted herself back in front of Thorin and the rest of the dwarves and leveled her Baggins glare at them all. It pleased her that several of them looked away. 

“Are you not the elves of the Woodland Realm? Is this the hospitality of the elves, that you offer us death and accusations in place of a warm hearth and good food? How dare you! You let this sickness seep through the forest you are bound to protect, you leave the road dangerous for those who would travel upon it, and yet we are the ones at fault! You should be ashamed of yourselves, all of you. You are not worthy of your titles nor your immortality.” 

The elf leveled a cool gaze at the hobbit, but she did no falter. 

“Do you know whom you address?” the red-haired elf asked. 

“Do you know who I am?” Bella countered. She held up her hand to stop the response, “No, you don’t. Nor do I care who I am or indeed who you are. You could be the king and I would still speak to you thus, for it is no less than you deserve. I rather think some of my more crafty, spoon-stealing cousins have far better manners than any of you.” 

“Well, I would apologize for our treatment of you, but I do not think that you would accept it.” 

She shrugged. 

“Come. We will take you to the halls of the king.” 

He gave a command in elvish, and they were pushed and prodded down the path in the direction that the elves had come from. Bofur looked around and counted his companions. 

“Thorin,” he whispered, “Where’s Bilbo?” 

They both turned to Bella, who pressed her finger to her lips and shook her head. She cast her eyes back in the direction where she could feel his presence lingering and gave the two dwarves a pointed look. Thorin and Bofur understood, and did not say another word about their missing hobbit. 

They traveled for several hours, finally reaching the center of Mirkwood just as the sun was beginning to go down. Once they were inside the gate and it was shut behind them, Bella observed their new surroundings. 

The Woodland Realm was built of tree and stone, molded to it and built inside of it. Unlike Rivendell, which was open and light, the Woodland Realm was dark and closed in. Everything felt heavy here, and though they were far from the path of the forest Bella could still feel the sickness linger in the halls. 

Woodelves lingered in the twilight of the sun and moon but loved best the stars; and they wandered in the great forests that grew tall in lands that are now lost. They dwelt most often by the edges of the woods, from which they could escape at times to hunt, or to ride and run over the open lands by moonlight or starlight; and after the coming of Men they took ever more and more to the gloaming and the dusk. Still elves they were and remain, and that is Good People.

In this great cave some miles within the edge of Mirkwood on its eastern side there lived at this time their greatest king. Before his huge doors of stone a river ran out of the heights of the forest and flowed on and out into the marshes at the feet of the high wooded lands. This great cave, from which countless smaller ones opened out on every side, wound far underground and had many passages and wide halls; but it was lighter and more wholesome than any goblin dwelling, and neither so deep nor so dangerous. 

In fact the subjects of the king mostly lived and hunted in the open woods, and had houses or huts on the ground and in the branches. The beeches were their favourite trees. The king's cave was his palace, and the strong place of his treasure, and the fortress of his people against their enemies. It was also the dungeon of his prisoners. So to the cave they dragged the Company not too gently, for they did not love dwarves. 

In ancient days they had had wars with some of the dwarves, whom they accused of stealing their treasure. In fact, this particular king had said that they had stolen a set of precious gems from him, and had declared the line of Durin his enemy until their return. It is only fair to say that the dwarves gave a different account, and said that they only took what was their due, for the elf-king had bargained with them to shape his raw gold and silver, and had afterwards refused to give them their pay. No one truly knew which side spoke true, and so they were forevermore enemies. 

They were brought before the king and forced to kneel before his throne. He stood before them nearly as tall as Gandalf, lithe and thin, with a crown of twisted branches sitting on his head.

“Some may imagine a noble quest is at hand,” he proclaimed, “A quest to reclaim a homeland and slay a dragon. I myself suspect a more prosaic motive. Attempted burglary, or something of that ilk.” 

“Well it’s all very well and good what you suspect or don’t suspect,” Bella couldn’t help but snark, “It’s no matter to us really, we’re forced to kneel either way.” 

The dwarves shushed her, and the elf-king ignored her. She was very angry at him, for during their travels the dwarves had often cursed Thranduil of the Woodland Realm. Those that had been in Erebor at the time of the Desolation had seen him and his army on the horizon. Thorin himself (only a young tween at the time) had begged for aid, for food for his starving family and people, and the elf had turned his back on them. Bella was not amused. 

Thrainduil ignored her. “You have found a way in. You seek that which would bestow upon you the right to rule. The King’s Jewel. The Arkenstone. It is precious to you beyond measure. I understand that.” 

Bella could not stand the look in Thorin’s eyes. The anger, the pain, the desperation.

“I’ve heard enough. You will be silent!” 

Thranduil turned cool eyes onto her. 

“And what, pray tell, are you?” 

“Well, if any of you had bothered to ask, I am Belladonna Baggins the Second, daughter of Belladonna Baggins the First, daughter of Adamanta Chubb and Gerontius Took, Thain of the Shire. If you want my titles, they are these: Princess of the Shire, Lady of Hobbition and Buckland, Mistress of Bag End and all it’s holdings, etc. etc. I would continue, but we would be here an age if I were to list all of my titles related to me and my family. I do not appreciate you accosting my traveling companions in such a manner.” 

“Traveling companions, you say?” Thranduil questioned, “And just were are you traveling to.” 

Bella smirked. She had caught herself a nice little fish with her line of a tale. 

“Well, your highness,” Thranduil frowned at the intended slight, “I could tell it to you like this: We were on the road. Well, it’s not so much a road as a path. Actually, come to think of it, it’s not really even that, is it? No, it’s more of a track, yes, a track. And see, we were on this road, which wasn’t a road it’s a path, and it wasn’t a path, it was a track. Anyway, point is, we were on this road, like a path, like a track, and then we went-” here Bella stretched out her hands in a wordless question, “Which is a problem, you see, and it’s a problem because...we were supposed to be in….in...in Dunland last Tuesday!” 

The dwarves all snickered at the memory. 

“What I am trying to say is, I could offer you many excuses and reasons why we have ended up here, but the truth is this. I am the Princess of the Shire, beloved granddaughter of the Thain, only child of his favorite daughter. And I have fallen in love with a dwarf.” 

“A dwarf, you say,” Thranduil answered, “What dwarf would that be?” 

“Thorin. Son of Thrain, son of Thror. We were married under the Party Tree in my homeland, according to the hobbit customs. Now we travel to the Iron Hills so that I might meet my new cousin. We thought it best to travel light, and therefore our company only numbered fourteen.” 

“Aye,” he said, “I can count. But what of your handmaidens, where are they? Surely a Queen does not allow herself to travel without handmaidens?” 

Bella faltered for a moment, forgetting that she did not have any handmaid's present to weave into the yarn that she was currently spinning. 

“Well, it’s not our fault you’re so near-sighted that you can’t tell a male from a female.” Bella fought to keep a dumbfounded look off of her face as Nori stepped forward. 

“Oh, cuz, we shouldn’t be expected to think so highly of men, least of all elvish men.” Bofur joined her companion. 

The only ones who were not shocked speechless were Dori (who was looking very put out), Ori (who was very relieved he no longer had to keep secrets from his friends, Bombur (who was shaking his head at his sister in exasperation), and Bifur (who simply rolled his eyes at his cousin and let the matter lie. 

Thranduil turned from her then. “Is this true?” he asked Thorin. 

The Dwarf King glared, “Are you questioning my wife’s honor?” 

The elf king switched tactics, "Why did you and your folk try to attack my people at their merrymaking?"

"We did not attack them," answered Thorin; "we came to beg, because we were starving and under attack." 

"What were you doing in the forest?"

"Looking for food and drink, because we were starving." 

"But what brought you into the forest at all?" asked the king angrily. 

“My Queen has told you, we are traveling to the Iron Hills so that she may meet my cousin.”

“Take them away,” Thranduil proclaimed. “To the guest quarters, under guard. We will revisit the matter later today.” 

And then they were led away, and so ended their audience with the elven king.


	33. Of Finding Family

Bilbo was able to slip through the doors as silently as a breeze, just before they were shut behind him. He could feel the magic sealing them into place, and he knew that none but an elf had any hope of ever opening them. A part of him despaired. How was he ever going to be able to free his sister and their dwarves? (For indeed, hobbits are very possessive when it comes to the things that they treasure, and Bilbo and Bella both had come to treasure the dwarves.) 

He had stood in the shadows silently, mindful of his own shadow lest he be spotted. He watched passively as the elf King spoke to his Company, and continued to watch as they were led away. He would have followed them, but Bella had motioned for him to stay back. He understood. She wanted him to listen. 

So he waited. 

“Why do you linger in the shadows?” 

He froze, certain that he had been caught. 

Foot steps beyond made him look to the right. The red haired elf that had saved Kili was walking up the stairs. It was to her that Thranduil had spoken. She bowed her head as she approached.

“I was coming to report to you,” she said to the king. 

“I thought I ordered that nest to be destroyed not two moons past.” He swept up the steps and planted himself on his wooden throne.

She shook her head, “We cleared the forest as ordered, my Lord. But more spiders keep coming up from the south. They are spawning in the ruins of Dol Guldur, if we could kill them at their source…” 

“The fortress lies beyond our borders. Keep our lands clear of those foul creatures, that is your task.” 

“And when we drive them off, what then?” she demanded, “Will they not spread to other lands?” 

The king scoffed. “Other lands are not my concern. THe fortunes of the world will rise and fall, but here in this kingdom, we will endure. 

Bilbo had heard enough. He knew that they had no hope of release from this cruel creature in front of him. He darted off to find his Company. To his dismay, he could barely feel the magical trail that Bella had left for him. The sickness in this place was seeping through, destroying any trace of her. He wanted to cry. Poor Mr. Baggins. It was a weary time that he lived in that place all alone, and always in hiding, never daring to take off his ring, hardly daring to sleep, even tucked away in the darkest and remotest corners he could find. He wandered the halls, desperate for some sign of his sister or any of the others. His first thought was the dungeon, but when he looked there he did not see any of them, not even in the deepest darkest cells. Companies of the Woodelves, sometimes with the king at their head, would from time to time ride out to hunt, or to other business in the woods and in the lands to the East. 

Then if Bilbo was very nimble, he could slip out just behind them; though it was a dangerous thing to do. More than once he was nearly caught in the doors, as they clashed together when the last elf passed; yet he did not dare to march among them because of his shadow (altogether thin and wobbly as it was in torchlight), or for fear of being bumped into and discovered. And when he did go out, which was not very often, he did no good. He did not wish to desert the dwarves, or his sister, and indeed he did not know where in the world to go without them. 

He could not keep up with the hunting elves all the time they were out, so he never discovered the ways out of the wood, and was left to wander miserably in the forest, terrified of losing himself, until a chance came of returning. He was hungry too outside, for he was no hunter; but inside the caves he could pick up a living of some sort by stealing food from the kitchen or table when no one was at hand. 

"I am like a burglar that can't get away, but must go on miserably burgling the same house day after day," he thought. "This is the dreariest and dullest part of all this wretched, tiresome, uncomfortable adventure! I wish I was back in my hobbithole by my own warm fireside with the lamp shining!" 

He often wished, too, that he could get a message for help sent to the wizard, but that of course was quite impossible; and he soon realized that if anything was to be done, it would have to be done by Mr. Baggins, alone and unaided. It was the kitchens that finally told him how to find his Company. He cursed himself for not thinking of it before. He waited with baited breath as he watched one of the elf maids load a tray with bread and dried meat. She carried the bread, another carried the meat, and still another grasped several water skins. 

He followed them out of the kitchens, trailing behind as they walked the halls. They went beyond the cave that held the king and his throne, up on a set of stairs that had been hidden in a little alcove. This was why he had not seen it before. He had focused his efforts on seeing where they might be imprisoned below. It had never occurred to Bilbo that they might have been taken above. 

They came to a door and hesitated. The guard standing next to it withdrew a set of keys and swiftly unlocked the door. They stepped in, set the trays down, dropped the water skins on a nearby table, and left. Bilbo barely had enough time to slip through the door before it was locked shut behind him. He could hear shouting. He figured it was Bella. 

“I told you, I’m not leaving this wretched place without my brother, Durin’s Day or no Durin’s Day!”

Indeed, it was Bella. 

“Miss Baggins,” Ah, there was Thorin, “We can come back for your brother if he is still alive, but time is growing short, and if the chance comes to escape we must take it.” 

Bilbo looked up. They were all here, locked together in a room large enough for all of them to sleep comfortably, with a table and some chairs entirely too big for them (elf make, he reckoned, knowing that the elf king had no reason to make them comfortable). There was a tub and a bucket pushed into the corner that he supposed was their bathroom. They looked much better then the dwarves he had seen led into the elven kingdom not a week before. They were starting to fill out, and their cheeks were no longer hollowed with hunger. They shone a little big brighter than before, and he knew instinctively that even if they were imprisoned they were well taken care of. 

He pulled off the ring and collapsed to the ground, landing on his hands and knees. He shook for a moment, trying to rid himself of the grey and the darkness that surrounded the use of the ring. 

“I say,” he coughed out, “Are there any elvensies available? Or dinner, or supper, whatever you wish to call it. I’m not partial to the naming of it, so long as I can eat more than a mouthful.” 

“Bilbo!”

Strong hands lifted him up, and Bella clutched him tightly to her. He felt her push warmth through him, and he let it seep through his very bones. Bella wasn’t much for the healing arts, but what little she could do was helping. 

“Get him some bread, quick!” 

Warm bread was shoved into his hands, and he bit into it with a moan of appreciation. All he could take was things from the pantry, vegetables and fruit and the like. Nothing had stuck to his stomach the entire time he had been wandering the halls, but this bread was sticking beautifully. As he finished it off he felt full for the first time in weeks. He felt a pressure on his back and turned his head. 

Oin was kneeling next to him, his flattened ear trumpet pressed by Bilbo’s lungs. He nodded firmly. “No sign of troubled breathing.” he said. 

“I should say not,” Bilbo replied, “I’m only hungry. I’ve been looking for you for days.” 

He looked up. All of the dwarves were looking at him with hope in their eyes. Bella only looked relieved. He smiled. 

“I am glad to finally have found you.” 

“What of our escape?” Thorin demanded, “Have you found our way out?” 

Bella glared at the dwarf, “Give him a moment, for pity’s sake!”

Bilbo took a deep breath and stepped back from his sister. “No,” he said, “I’ve only been looking for you. There’s the front gate, but we have no hope of making it out of there without being seen. And it only opens at the touch of an elf.” 

Thorin sighed heavily. “At least we know you’re alive,” he said quietly. 

“What about our weapons?” Dwalin wanted to know. 

Bilbo shook his head. 

They all sighed resignedly. “Well,” Kili said, “No sense in letting our supper go to waste.” 

“Is it supper then?” Bilbo asked. 

Bella shrugged. “Not sure, it’s always dark in here and the only light we have is from the torches. But we’ve rather put ourselves on somewhat of a schedule. We’ll be laying down soon.” 

“When will they unlock the door again?” Bilbo wanted to know. 

“Not until morning,” Nori cut in, “Or our morning, anyway. They patrol every three hours. Four patrols, then they bring us another tray and more water. I listened at the door and counted.” 

“Have they let you out at all?” 

Bella shook her head, “No. They only take me or Thorin. They bring us before the king and he asks us the same questions each time. The same ones he asked the first time. I can sense that he’s getting impatient. I would break us out, but I don’t want to hurt anyone. For all their sins, they don’t deserve to die. I told him I am considered Elf Friend, but apparently the only opinion he cares about is his own. We’ve been waiting for you.” 

“Well,” Bilbo said, “Thank you. Let me eat, and sleep, and I’ll be right as rain in the morning and I’ll find us a way out.” 

Bella stroked the hair from his face. “I should think its nearing time for a cut.” 

All the dwarves began to protest, and in a flash Dwalin was standing behind Bilbo with a comb. “No need for that,” he said gruffly, pulling Bilbo’s hair (which by now was reaching the top of his shoulders) back and braiding it swiftly. By the time Dwalin was done, he had one traveling down the top of Bilbo’s head, and two at the sides, meeting together to form a small bun. 

Everyone was gaping at him. 

“Do you know what you have done, brother?” Balin asked gravely. 

“You’ve declared yourself kin!” Gloin exclaimed. 

“I know exactly what I’ve done, and it’s something I’ve been meaning to do.” 

“Umm, yes, hello, hobbit lass here,” Bella interrupted before anyone else said anything, “What exactly is happening. May I remind you that we are indeed hobbits and not dwarves, and have no true understanding of your culture?” 

Bilbo watched Throin closely, and a light seemed to go on in the dwarf’s head. He felt relieved. WHatever the dwarf had done, maybe now he could fix the issue and Bilbo and the rest of them would no longer have to witness the two fools dancing around each other. It was getting rather sickening. 

_Although_ , _Bilbo supposed, it may get worse if they act on it._ He shuddered. 

“Well,” Bella said, “We haven’t got all day! Would someone please explain just what is going on here?” 

“Well,” Nori said slowly, “He more or less just declared Bilbo his son. Braiding is for family, and if he had been older it might have been considered a declaration of courtship, but given the age and the nature of your relationship, he just adopted you.” 

Bilbo gaped at the dwarf warrior behind him. “WHAT?!” 

“I’d have you as kin,” Dwalin grumbled, “I’ll not be letting you scarper off to Mahal knows where when we retake the Mountain.” His gaze softened a little, “I’ll not be trying to take the place of your Ma or Da, but I feel for you as if you were my own.” He shot a look at Bella, “I’d take you both as my own, if you would have me.”

Nori wiped her eyes and sniffled, and indeed all the other dwarves would be lying if they tried to claim their eyes were dry as well. 

“All you have to do is braid our hair?” 

“Well,” Balin interjected, “truth be told there is a lot more pomp and ceremony that should be involved. But since Smaug, we have become a more simple people, adapting our traditions to reflect our station in life as it is today. He has braided before witnesses, that will suffice. So long as you consent.” 

Bilbo thought for a moment. “I had a Da, and I had a Ma, as you say. I loved my parents, and they loved each other. They loved each other so much that Bella and I weren’t enough for Papa when he decided to Fade. I don’t blame him. If I loved someone as much as he loved Mama I would have wanted to be with them as well. But they are gone. And we are here, and since we intend on making our life in the Mountain, I see no reason why we shouldn’t have a dwarf family. I would be honored to be your son.” 

Bella had her hands clasped over her mouth, crying silent tears. 

“You don’t have to accept, even if Bilbo doesn, Miss Baggins.” 

She waved off Thorin’s concern. 

“I’m mad.” 

“You’re mad?” Gloin exclaimed, “Mad with what? Surely my cousin doesn’t insult you so much that it’s driven you insane.” 

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. I’m the Mad Baggins, the Odd Hobbit, the Wanderer. If some of my more stuffy relatives had had their way I would have been declared a Menance to Society and banished from Bag End right after my father died. As it was, they used the inheritance laws to take my home anyway. No one wants me. Bilbo maybe, but he’s a boy. I’m hardly fit for anything but a marriage alliance. I know I act brave and like I have a backbone, but the truth of it is that I am terrified every day that I will end up alone in the world. Family is everything to me, and mine never cared. And you, you want me as your daughter, without question, or bargain, or any form of trade. You don’t ask me to be anything other than I am, and I thank you for that. I would be honored to bear your braid. 

Dwalin wiped his eyes and settled behind the hobbit lass, swiftly combing through the tangles in her locks as gently as he could. Dwarves were very skilled when it comes to braiding, and within minutes he had her done. 

Much like Bilbo, she had one thick braid running down the top of her head, with smaller braids on the side keeping the hair out of her face. The only difference was he allowed the loose hairs to fall free instead of binding them back. 

“It is done then.” Thorin said, and Bilbo rather felt like he was making some sort of grave proclamation. 

“Well, keep playing the ruse I would think,” He told them, “Keep up with the story my sister has concocted. I’ll be looking for our escape route in the meantime.” 

He slept soundly for the first time in days, and slipped out the next time the door was unlocked for their morning meal. Bella and Bilbo had slept wrapped up in each other, with Dwalin laying beside them. When Bilbo had awoken the dwarf had draped his cloak over the two siblings, and if Bilbo happened to see that a certain female thief and spymaster was pressed tight to the back of the guardsman he didn’t do anything other than smirk. 

“I’ll be back,” he whispered as he left, “Don’t give up hope.” 

The other dwarves quite agreed, for by now they all trusted Bilbo. Just what Gandalf had said would happen, you see. Perhaps that was part of his reason for going off and leaving them. Bilbo, however, did not feel nearly so hopeful as they did. He did not like being depended on by everyone, and he wished he had the wizard at hand. But that was no use: probably all the dark distance of Mirkwood lay between them. 

He sat and thought and thought, until his head nearly burst, but no bright idea would come. One invisible ring was a very fine thing, but it was not much good among fifteen. But of course, as you have guessed, he did rescue his family (for that is what they were now) in the end, and this is how it happened. 

One day, nosing and wandering about, Bilbo discovered a very interesting thing: the great gates were not the only entrance to the caves. A stream flowed under part of the lowest regions of the palace, and joined the Forest River some way further to the east, beyond the steep slope out of which the main mouth opened. Where this underground watercourse came forth from the hillside there was a water gate. There the rocky roof came down close to the surface of the stream, and from it a portcullis could be dropped right to the bed of the river to prevent anyone coming in or out that way. But the portcullis was often open, for a good deal of traffic went out and in by the water gate. 

If anyone had come in that way, he would have found himself in a dark rough tunnel leading deep into the heart of the hill; but at one point where it passed under the caves the roof had been cut away and covered with great oaken trapdoors. These opened upwards into the king's cellars. There stood barrels, and barrels, and barrels; for the Woodelves, and especially their king, were very fond of wine, though no vines grew in those parts. The wine, and other goods, were brought from far away, from their kinsfolk in the South, or from the vineyards of Men in distant lands. 

Hiding behind one of the largest barrels Bilbo discovered the trapdoors and their use, and lurking there, listening to the talk of the king's servants, he learned how the wine and other goods came up the rivers, or over land, to the Long Lake. It seemed a town of Men still existed there, built out on bridges far into the water as a protection against enemies of all sorts, and especially against the dragon of the Mountain. 

From Laketown the barrels were brought up the Forest River. Often they were just tied together like big rafts and poled or rowed up the stream; sometimes they were loaded on to flat boats. When the barrels were empty the elves cast them through the trapdoors, opened the watergate, and out the barrels floated on the stream, bobbing along, until they were carried by the current to a place far down the river where the bank jutted out, near to the very eastern edge of Mirkwood. There they were collected and tied together and floated back to Laketown, which stood close to the point where the Forest River flowed into the Long Lake. For some time Bilbo sat and thought about this water gate, and wondered if it could be used for the escape of his friends, and at last he had the desperate beginnings of a plan.

**These are the images I found for the hairstyles as well as Bella's current outfit:**


End file.
